Paris After Midnight
by Crimson Siyrean
Summary: A vampire sets her sights on Christine, introducing her to her dark world. Realising her mistake, Christine takes refuge with the only person who may be able to help her but can she resist temptation...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own POTO or London after midnight... simply borrowed the name.  
  
A/N: I'm bringing this one back, going to do some editing to the second chapter but then It'll be back up as well. I'm working on ch3 so hopefully it'll be up soon too.  
  
~*~  
  
Paris after midnight  
  
~*~  
  
The night was calm and warm without a hint of a breeze, the perfect night one might think, yet the streets were strangely deserted. The lamps had long been lit but it was not yet so late that all the partygoers would have retired. It was as if this night had a silent warning to it, and that none should dare disturb its slumber. Even the stars and moon hid behind a shade of clouds, casting those areas not lit into a thick cover of darkness. The creatures of the night had full reign of the land now, taking advantage of their nocturnal senses, they were at ease as they stalked the streets.  
  
Christine looked up to see the silver full moon just inching out from behind the thickly clouded night sky. It was beautiful she thought in an eerie way. It reminded her that there were some kingdoms that belonged entirely to the night and yet they could hold just as much beauty as the ones where the sun never faded. The Paris streets were completely desolate she noticed. Her eyes quickly fell from one object to another, trying to make out the deepest shadows but failed sadly. She had always been prone to being afraid of the dark and past circumstances had not helped matters. She wished desperately to see beyond the lampposts, as she did not trust what could be lurking in the shadows.  
  
Continuing down the street, Christine became increasingly aware of her loud clicking heals echoing around her. It was not comforting to know that was the only sound she could hear, accompanied occasionally by a little splash of an unnoticed puddle. Finally Raoul's carriage came into view, only a few more meters to go and she would be safe with her husband, no longer alone in this perpetual darkness. She breathed a deep sigh of relief as she picked up her skirts to hurry towards it.  
  
How foolish she was, she thought to herself; to have gone so far at this time of night and now she was nearly a nervous wreak because of it. She could feel her hands sweating as they tightened their grip on her folds, it seemed as though the lamps were growing dimmer with ever succeeding light. Her mind was playing tricks on her she thought.  
  
Earlier that evening the happy couple got into a small argument embarrassingly in front of friends and as was their way, they simply would both take a small walk to clear their heads and return as if nothing had happened. But there was something in the air Christine thought, which just begged her to stay in the darks warm embrace a little longer than usual. It was almost as though it were leading her to travel just a little farther away from her husband, bribing her with its sweet moist air that filled her lungs with a youthful vigor.  
  
Unfortunately as soon as she started to entertain her fears a wave of possibilities clouded her mind. She was only maybe a hundred meters from the carriage but in that time someone could very easily grab her, cover her mouth, and drag her away, and he wouldn't even know how close she was to being safe. She did not trust these streets when they were so quiet, something wasn't right about it. Her heart grew to a rapid speed as she picked up her pace. Silently she begged for her heals to stop disturbing the haunting silence as they struck the pavement again and again.  
  
A strangest feeling of being watched filled her entire body and she clutched her arms tightly to her chest. Shaking her head she tried to rid her mind of the sound of her steps, which seemed to have doubled within her frightened mind. Doubled? Wearily she slowed her steps paying close attention to her every sound. She could have sworn she could hear two clicks to her every step, almost in unison but as she looked about her she could see no other person.  
  
After taking a thorough look about her she turned to quickly return to the carriage. As she brought her body about, a swift gust of wind streamed past her side, causing her entire form to tremble. She could've sworn she saw something flash before her eyes as this happened but then it was gone. Bewildered and on the verge of panic, Christine ran the rest of the way to the carriage.  
  
"Did you have a good walk?" Her husband questioned off handedly. She merely glared at him. Must be still mad, he thought to himself.  
  
~*~  
  
Christine's dreams that night were plagued with fierce nightmares but despite how desperately she wished to, she could not wake herself up. After a succession of terrifying episodes her dreams brought her back to that strange walk back to the carriage earlier. Everything happened just as it did before yet different. She felt more aware of a looming presents just beyond her grasp of sight. When the wind came she felt it sweep past her not as wind but more like a velvet hand stroking the side of her face, causing her head to turn slightly.  
  
Her eyes went wide as she struggled to scream but no sound would emanate from her throat. She stared in horror at the flash of a face, or at least a set of features, which resembled a face before her. In a haze of white she could make out scowling eyes and vicious animal like teeth in a wide grin but then it was gone. The whole thing lasted no more then a few seconds but she felt that vision permanently etched into her mind.  
  
Terrified, she bolted straight up in bed trembling violently. Sticky perspiration clung to her skin and night gown, chilling her as the air cooled her skin. Christine sat for a while, taking in her surroundings. Only a dream, she thought in an attempt to calm her mind, which still could not shake the image from focus. Slowly she brought herself back down into bed, burying herself under the covers.  
  
"Christine is something wrong?" a groggy voiced Raoul asked. Guiltily she realized she must have woken him up as well in her fright.  
  
"No. I'm sorry Raoul, I just had a nightmare." Thinking that was all, she closed her eyes again, thankful that she wasn't alone in the dark.  
  
"Must have been some nightmare. You're still trembling." he replied concerned. Christine hadn't even noticed that her body was still shaking uneasily.  
  
"It was. I'm sorry for waking you..." She was curling comfortably on her side when Raoul's strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her close to him. Clutching his hands in her own she breathed in his scent deeply as a generous smile played across her lips and exhaling only once she felt the back of her head resting against his muscular chest. She felt so safe with him, knowing he would always protect her.  
  
"When it's by a beautiful woman, I can't really complain." He whispered in his wife's ear as she let out a small laugh. "Now lets see what we can do about that dream." He then let his moist lips trail from her ear to her neck where they continued to kiss her delicate skin.  
  
"And just how does this help?" Christine giggled out, enjoying her husband's playfulness.  
  
"By making you forget about it of course." He breathed quickly as he tightened his grip around her. His mouth continued its journey down and lingered around the base of her neck with its soft caresses. "Don't worry Christine. I won't let you live out anymore nightmares."  
  
Christine's body stiffened as his reference flashed through her mind. The events of three years ago were not a subject they discussed, nor did she care to; the main reason being that he only could think of it as a nightmare. Angrily, she shifted her way out of his embrace.  
  
"I'm tired Raoul, let's just get some sleep." She stated flatly.  
  
Not taking the hint, he let his hand trail up her leg whispering, "are you sure about that?"  
  
Annoyed, Christine gave him a firm "yes" and moved away from him. Dejected, Raoul mumbled to himself as he rolled over.  
  
~*~  
  
The next morning Christine found her self in better spirits, humming lightly as she readied herself for the day. Raoul was in the adjoining washroom as she examined herself in the mirror. A small gasp escaped her lips as she noticed a prominent red blotch on her neck.  
  
"Raoul you rogue! Look what you've done to me. I'll be wearing high collared dresses for a week!" Christine exclaimed as she fumbled for some concealing make up. Raoul simply stuck his head out the doorway and grinned at his handy work. "Your impossible" she said as he turned away again.  
  
Christine went back to looking in the mirror when she let out a horrified shriek, but when she turned the image she had seen was gone. It had been there, she was sure of it. There had been an image of a lady standing behind her with such threatening, piercing eyes, even if it was for only a second she couldn't deny seeing it.  
  
~*~  
  
Please R&R ; ) 


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: again no significant changes have been made. Hopfully I'll get a new chapter up soon, schools been driving me nuts hence my taking my time to create a new account.  
  
~*~  
  
Lazily Christine sat in the large parlor, curled up on a soft cushiony chair situated by the fire. Enthralled within the book she had chosen on that dreary day, she allowed her thoughts slip easily away from reality. It was storming with a vengeance outside, so much so that even though it was not long past midday, already the sky was canopied into darkness only to be relieved by a fierce flash of thundering lightning.  
  
Despite the noise from the storm, the house was unusually quiet. The servants, though about, were making themselves scarce leaving the house seemingly void of life, that is with the exception of Christine.  
  
That morning had done nothing for her nerves. Raoul, of course, had immediately come to see what was the matter after Christine's panicked scream but nothing was to be found and after several minutes of comforting his distraught wife, continued to ready for the day as if nothing had happened. Christine was not convinced, something felt definitely wrong and she hated having to kiss her husband good-bye for the day, knowing she'd be left to that big old house virtually by herself.  
  
The lightening crashed again, illuminated the room and sending shadows spinning around her. Lazily she lifted her eyes to gaze out the large over sized windows, which faced the front street. The gentle clopping of hooves could be heard over the rain in a calming rhythm. You would have to be crazy to go out in this weather she thought dully to herself as she watched the lonely carriage slowly pass.  
  
Tucking her legs up beneath her she continued back at her book. Many minutes passed before once again her attention was diverted from the pages she read. The faintest sound of music seemed to drift into the room drawing up her head. She sat motionless trying to discern what it was she was hearing. It was in the house, she was positive, and it almost sounded like a music box but that didn't make any sense. Puzzled, she slowly set her novel aside and rose to discover the source of the curious sound.  
  
It did not take long before the drifting music brought her to the door to a room that had long fallen into disuse, the Chagny nursery. She stood out side the door listening as fear crept over her, something was definitely not right. Her hands began to tremble as they hesitantly grasped the handle to the room and with her heart pounding at a deafening rate she slowly leaned in.  
  
There was nothing. She looked around the dully-lit room, with its curtains closed and its thin layer of dust, searching for the offending music box. They eventually fell to a small baby porcelain doll which appeared to have fallen from it's shelf, with a sigh of relief she took the doll in her hands and placed it lightly back onto the shelf musing how odd it was that it hadn't broke on impact. She then became startled when it's music abruptly stopped as soon as it was seated back in its supposed place. Shaking her head and telling herself she was being paranoid, she turned her back to the strange doll.  
  
Again she looked around the room, admiring the expensive old-fashioned toys, which lined the walls and the ornate, expertly crafted crib, which sat on the far wall just beside the window. It had been hoped that one day her child would rest in that crib, the heir to the Chagny fortune, but after over three years of marriage her hopes were beginning to fade.  
  
Finding that she had allowed her self to drift to the cribs edge, she lightly ran her hand over the soft fabric lining its interior. Raoul and Christine were indeed among the happiest of married couples, having shared so much together it seemed they would forever be bound to one another, and yet it seemed fate would not let them share that which each of them so desperately wanted though it wasn't from lack of trying. No, they very much enjoyed all the benefits of marriage as any young couple would deeply in love, but some things just didn't seem meant to be.  
  
Christine felt like a failure. That she had failed as a wife and a woman to perform her duty. Not only that but Raouls family fully expected him to carry on the family line and now not only had he married drastically below his station but to a woman who seemed to them to be utterly useless.  
  
Slowly she stepped back towards the door until she stood in its frame, looking over the desolate room once more. With a deep breath she began to shut the door when a quick movement out of the corner of her eye brought her attention back to the doll. She watched in horror as it once again fell from its place and smashed into a million pieces on the hardwood floor. Another crash of lightening flashed through the ill lit room causing what seemed to be the outline of a figure to momentarily appear in the farthest corner. Trembling, she backed away into the hallway as every hair on her body stood on end, unsure of what she thought she had seen. There was nothing there, she knew there was nothing there and yet that terrible image was imprinted in her mind.  
  
In a brief moment of courage she tore herself away from the sight and went racing down the hall calling for Sarah, the household maid. When she did at last find her she had her come to the room to help clean up the broken shards, though in truth she just wanted another person to take a look inside with her.  
  
For the remainder of the day Christine kept to the parlor and wouldn't even venture up the stairs again. The past two days had been enough for her to start doubting her own senses and she waited restlessly for Raouls return. Desperately she wanted to feel his warm embrace again, for him to tell her everything was all right and that she was just being silly while kissing her forehead. But he was off dealing with some property dispute, which meant lawyers, he hated lawyers and would likely return home in a mood much to her displeasure.  
  
It wasn't until well into the evening that he did at last return and Christine hastily welcomed him at the door while he gave his coat and hat to Sarah. Relief over came her as soon as she saw him in the front entrance, soaked from the rain and with a tired look on his face.  
  
"How did it go?" she asked cautiously, not wanting to upset him if he was indeed in a mood. He merely shuddered at her question and kissed her lightly on the forehead before heading for his favorite chair in the other room. She followed him in and sat in a nearby seat, watching him curiously as he stared into the fires glowing flames.  
  
"You know, I think I'm just going to go to bed now. The days just been a little too tens for me." He finally said to her while getting up.  
  
"Are you sure you're alright?" Concerned she rose as well but he made a sign to stay.  
  
"I'll be fine, you enjoy your book." He glanced quickly at the title. "La morte amoureuse, and you wonder why you've been having nightmares." Smiling he kissed her chastely on her lips when she frowned at his statement before casually leaving the room. Still frowning, she watched as he lazily made his way up the stairs, slowly taking his steps one by one when a knowing smile crossed her lips. She knew exactly how to clear his mind.  
  
Raoul had just finished putting some things away when he entered his bedroom and began to undress. His attention was lost completely to his thoughts, going over the day's events. Apparently some documents had the incorrect property lines listed, causing a conflict on one of the many properties the Chagny family owned. He couldn't care less about a couple of feet of land but of course everything had to be settled legally, meaning many hours of going through paper work, signing documents, and dealing with upset tenants. All he wanted was to forget this day ever happened and mused to him self he probably should have grabbed a stiff drink first while he began to unbutton his shirt.  
  
The sound of a light sigh startled him, bringing his attention to the area of the room the noise emanated from. With an expression of surprise, his eyes fell on a rather scantily clad Christine lying leisurely across the top of the massively sized bed. She met his eyes with a triumphant smirk as she saw his look of astonishment and complete loss for words.  
  
She rolled onto her stomach with a yawn while resting her head on her hands and kicking her feet up behind her. Raoul stared at her ardently as the enchanting contrast between her soft pale skin against the dark sheets left his mind grasping for words.  
  
"Have I told you how much I love you?" was the only thing he could think of after fully drinking in her sight.  
  
"Not nearly enough." She playfully replied as he came over to her, his crystal blue eyes never leaving her own. Christine met his lips with delight before pulling him down to the bed in a passionate embrace, holding back none of her desires. This night she would be sure they'd both sleep sound.  
  
~*~  
  
Please R&R ^_^ 


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: ok, finally new stuff to post ^_^ and things are starting to get interesting. The story will definitely begin to pick up pace after this chapter though I probably wont be able to update again till after finals are over, but then I've got the summer. Oh the reason I've got a new account is because they decided to delete my old one since they didn't like one of my fics, yeah it sucks.  
  
~*~  
  
"Why do you continue to play with her? Why not just take her now?" a soft male voice spoke.  
  
"I'd like to think I have a bit more style then that, besides it'll be easier for her if she comes willingly." A woman's voice replied calmly.  
  
"You think she'll be willing to come of her own choice?" he asked in surprise.  
  
"In time, can't you see it? It's like part of her soul is missing, this is not the life that was meant for her. And so she'll come, but not yet. No, she is not yet ready."  
  
"And then?"  
  
There was a brief pause before she replied. "And then she'll be mine. Come along, the night grows short."  
  
The two voices descended from their perch out side the large window leaving the sleeping couple in peace, unaware of the short transaction that took place.  
  
~*~  
  
Raoul stirred as the heat from the sun crawled up to his face, breaking through the partially closed drapes. Slowly he allowed his eyelids to slip open to greet the harsh rays with annoyance, becoming acutely aware of the light form resting partially across his chest. Looking down he smiled as he felt Christine's hot breath lightly caress his skin while her face mirrored that of an innocent child's. Gently allowing his hand to graze over her feather soft hair, he watched as she slowly began to wake. Christine sighed, refusing to remove herself from her position and merely advanced further across his chest, smiling contently.  
  
"Christine," he whispered calmly, allowing his hand to grasp her bare shoulder giving her a little nudge. "It's time to get up."  
  
"No." she replied stubbornly, burrowing herself tightly against his body.  
  
Chuckling, he shifted in an attempt to free himself from her grasp only to hear her whimper as she securely pinned him back down. "Christine."  
  
"Why do we have to get up?" she asked lazily as her hand began to trace shapes over his lightly defined muscles, grinning whenever he flinched from her finding a particularly sensitive spot.  
  
"I have things to get done before the party tonight." He heard her moan at the mention of that evening's social event.  
  
"Do we have to go? You know how much I abhor those things." Her voice made no disguise of her feelings towards the thought of attending such an event.  
  
"It won't be as bad as you think; besides my sisters will be there." Christine only grumbled more at the mention his dear sisters whom so enjoyed making their little comments about her once he was out of hearing range.  
  
"Those women hate me." she muttered, scowling as past instances replayed themselves in her head.  
  
"Come now, they do not." He defensively replied with a hint of concern in his voice.  
  
"Oh Raoul, don't be dense," Christine began annoyed and promptly moving back to her own side of the bed. "You know perfectly well that they disapprove of me and don't you think they don't make it perfectly clear when your back is turned. Actually they do it right in front of your face but you're blind to realize it."  
  
Not wanting to argue Raoul decided to simply drop it, sighing as he looked at his wife's discontented face before removing himself from the bed. She could be so stubborn at times he thought as he looked over her again. But then she does look cute when she mad he mused with a grin as she pulled the sheets up tightly around her for modesty, a frown firmly planted on her face.  
  
That evening Christine reluctantly accompanied her husband to the social gathering where they were at once greeted upon entrance by his sisters and their equally haughty husbands. She did not miss any of their distasteful glances, making her fully aware of her welcome.  
  
Looking around Christine was surprised at the number of guest that evening, the large room was packed with the many extravagant couples all emitting an aura of superiority and purpose. Christine had known that transitioning into Raoul's circle of friends would not be easy but this was beyond ridicules. Three years and she had yet to make a single sincere friend, only slight acquaintances that only put up with her for proprieties sake. Sighing to her self, she knew this would be a long night.  
  
Christine continued to scan the crowd, hoping to see someone whose presence she could at least tolerate. She always felt so alone at these things, always on defense, guarded, and nervous. It wouldn't take much for her to do something wrong and then these women would make it haunt her for months, she honestly wondered if that because they had no lives of there own they simply contented themselves on making hers miserable.  
  
A particularly large group was creating a small commotion not far from where she was standing. Christine watched, trying to figure out what it was all about when a familiar looking woman caught her eye. Trying desperately to place the face the young woman smiled confidently at Christine before returning her attentions back to her entourage. Christine took in her appearance carefully, knowing that she had seen this woman before. She had the most stunning deep green almond shaped eyes she noted, with a thin nose and fashionably pale complexion. Her strawberry blonde hair was done up elaborately atop her head and she wore a deep forest green dress with scoping neckline. The woman seemed to have an almost foreign look to her yet Christine couldn't place it to any particular country. Still staring at the woman Christine nudged her husband to get his attention.  
  
"Who is that?" she asked gesturing to the suspicious lady in green. Raoul looked genuinely shocked when he saw her, and seemed in deep thought before finally answering.  
  
"That is Mademoiselle Catherine du Merrets if I'm not mistaken. I haven't seen her in Paris for years... hasn't changed a bit." Raoul then looked at his wife very seriously and brought her a little away from the others to continue. "I think it would probably be best if you tried to avoid her... to say she's not well liked is an understatement." Nodding, they then turned back to his family.  
  
Though trying to remain involved in the conversation Christine's thoughts constantly strayed back to that woman. She couldn't understand what it was about the lady but she felt the strangest feeling of intrigue towards her, a compelling need to meet her. And then there were Raoul's words, what had he meant? There was obviously an aversion in the crowd towards this Catherine, but it wasn't one of contempt, more like weariness and unease. Christine did her best and stayed away from the woman but couldn't help but stare at her whenever she was in view, though more then a few times Catherine noticed and smiled calmly back before Christine turned her head away, embarrassed.  
  
At last in an attempt to get some air, Christine departed her company and made way to one of the many balconies which connected to the main room. The design was built more for style than practicality for along the far wall there were a number of balconies leading out but none of them connected.  
  
Relived to be on her own, Christine stretched her body far out over the railing and gazed into the empty sky. She hated it there, never in her life had she felt more alone, except perhaps when her father died... but then she had her angel.  
  
Guiltily she pushed her thoughts to the side and tried to concentrate on picking out the various constellations in the sky. It wasn't right for her to be thinking of Erik now; she had no right to feel sorry for herself, not when she got exactly what she wanted in the end. There was so much that she didn't understand about him that now seemed perfectly clear, she was just so innocent at the time, so naive and selfish. If she had to go through it all again, she wasn't sure that she would've made the same decisions, but this was wrong, it was wrong to think like this, not after everything that has happened. She loved Raoul, she truly did, but some how that just didn't seem like enough anymore.  
  
Shaking her head she glanced back through the doors and spied Raoul talking quite comfortably with a rather attractive young woman. Christine flushed with irrational jealousy as she watched the two laugh together. The girl rested a hand on his arm with the smuggest smile on her face. Christine new full well the girl was flirting with her husband and there was nothing she could do about it. Unable to watch anymore Christine turned her back to the party, looking once again over the estates gardens.  
  
"I wouldn't get myself worked up over it," a woman's voice calmly spoke behind her. Christine jumped at the sound a quickly turned to see she was not alone. "The girls little more then a coquettish dolt, the poor boy's probably just begging for someone to rescue him." Catherine finished with a smile.  
  
She was situated in the far corner, almost completely within the shadows sitting at a small rod iron table and chair set. Christine could not tell if she'd been there the whole time or if she came in silently later, in any case she was unnerved by the fact that she hadn't noticed the woman watching her. The woman's fingers unfurled with a grace Christine had only witnessed once before and made a gliding gesture for her to sit across from her in an empty chair.  
  
"I'm sorry; I didn't realize I wasn't alone." Christine heard her self say without really any thought. Unable to break eye contact, she slowly descended onto the cold chair and was met almost immediately with a glass of wine from Catherine's hand that seemed to produce two glasses out of nowhere.  
  
"That's alright my dear, I prefer things that way." Blushing, Christine humbly lowered her eyes, concentrating more on the rising bubbles in her glass. "I have some things to discuss with you and I do hope that in time we could become the most dear and intimate of friends."  
  
The woman gave a short laugh as she watched the perplexed look fall over Christine's face before taking a sip from her glass with triumph.  
  
~*~  
  
Please R&R ^_^ 


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: the first few lines are intentionally similar to those in the story "Carmilla" by J. Sheridan Le Fanu. Anyways I've been trying to stick a few vampire references in here and there. If you've read Carmilla, you'll understand the significant.  
  
A/N: ok I lied; I've got another chapter up. I couldn't help it; this story's just been running through my head 24/7. *must do homework* anyways this time for sure it'll be a while before the next one. I also meant for this chapter to be much longer but I hadn't expected the conversation to take so long.  
  
I'm really not comfortable with working with long bits of dialog so please by all means give me pointers, I just don't feel I have the knack for it and would really like to improve.  
  
~*~  
  
"But I've never even met you before." Christine replied confused. Catherine set her glass aside on the table and lightly let her hand rest atop Christine's, making full eye contact once more.  
  
"I know, it's quite silly really but when I first spied you today, I had the strangest feeling that I knew you, that we had met before. It's so odd I just had to meet you." Catherine rolled the words off casually in a tone of pure sweetness while giving the girl's hand a light squeeze. Christine stared oddly at the gesture. She had such soft lithe hands, she thought as she could barely feel the touch and yet it sent a shiver coursing through her entire body.  
  
"I had the same feeling too..." she started to reply nervously, while retracting her hand.  
  
As though she hadn't noticed the slight rejection, Catherine waved her hands casually as she began to speak. "You see! It's like fate destined us to be friends. I can see you're hesitant. I know what they say about me Christine and I'm well aware that you've been told to stay away from me. You needn't worry, I have nothing against you." She finished by giggling lightly and taking another sip of her drink.  
  
Catherine's light manner was beginning to have its desired effect as Christine began to relax slightly under her gaze. She was confused, she didn't know who this woman was yet somehow they both recognized each other? She seemed to be sincere; perhaps such a thing was possible. Christine had been on guard within these circles for so long now, perhaps her paranoia was just going to her head. She could at least give this woman a chance, even if the others don't like her. It couldn't hurt really.  
  
As she slowly rolled the thin neck of the glass between her palms, Christine went through her silent contemplation. "I don't understand," she mumbled after a moment past.  
  
"Well you see my dear, the reason they worry is because I know too much. I've made it my business to know what goes on in every prominent family wherever I travel and I would not hesitate to make public what I know if I felt the need." Catherine replied casually while refilling her glass from a bottle she had tucked behind her chair.  
  
Blackmail? Surly this woman wouldn't do such a thing. Christine hesitantly took a deep sip from her glass to allow Catherine to refill it, not wishing to appear rude for not drinking. "But why? How?" she asked after a gulp of the surprisingly refreshing liquid, she could use a few drinks after putting up with her husband's society.  
  
"One needs to protect them selves someway, and knowledge is power. Never forget that." Her tone was momentarily serious before resuming casually. "As for how, I have my ways and connections... I've seen the way they treat you Christine, once they see you are my friend, you will not have to worry about foolish comments again."  
  
Perhaps this wasn't right, Christine thought hesitantly as she drank in her wine. She didn't want anymore reasons for people to dislike her and especially for such reasons. At least now she knew it was simply because of her upbringing, which was not something she was ashamed of either.  
  
Noticing Christine's apprehension, Catherine pointed back to the party, capturing her full attention once again. "Everyone has secrets; I make it my business to know them. Take Madam Constants, her son, illegitimate. Her husband doesn't know but I dare say his brother does. Monsieur de Reves there, has been bedding the Monde's daughter, she's twelve. Monsieur le Comte de Jenoux, well let's just say he's got enough blood on his hands that not even his money could save him should it be known."  
  
"Please stop." Christine pleaded, turning her head from the guests. True, she had no love for these people but she still didn't want to believe such things about them.  
  
Catherine sat silently for a moment, slumped back in her chair while taking in the girl's appearance carefully. She was so pure, so innocent of the truth that lies behind human nature. A smile spread across Catherine's lips as she watched Christine lower her eyes almost as if in shame for the people she associated with.  
  
Yes this is why she wanted her; this is why she would have her. Leaning over the table Catherine continued. "Yes Christine, they taunt you for being of lesser breeding and yet you are more virtuous then the whole lot of them. Why the only thing that could be held against you is your previous profession, that and the fact that your sisters in law think you're barren, but that's ridiculous... why would Raoul still be married to you otherwise?"  
  
Christine's head shot up, shocked as panic swept over her body. "Why would you say that?" she gasped, almost disbelieving what she had just heard. Slipping back a glance to where Raoul was situated, she and saw him still talking with that girl, though it seemed another one had joined in the conversation.  
  
"Why because it's his duty of course, he has to carry on the family line. You don't marry your lover; you marry the mother of your children. The whole purpose of marriage is to provide legal proof of a child's parents."  
  
"That is ridiculous. Marriage is to show proof of ones love." Christine nearly cried defensively, sitting straight up in her chair. She would not listen to such a misconstrued definition of holy matrimony. Marriage was the joining of two people in love under god!  
  
"Do you truly believe all the couples in there love each other? That they were in love when they married? My girl, don't be so naïve, a person doesn't have to be married to show their love for another."  
  
Christine flushed red in disbelief at her suggestion. "A virtuous woman would never- "  
  
Catherine cut her off quickly, fully enjoying their little debate. "Virtuous women are needed for wives because then it is ensured who a child's father is, that and so the husband need not worry about another man touching his property. Really, I don't see why you are getting all upset by this. That is unless his sister's suspicions are true?" A knowing smile crossed her face as she watched Christine's involuntary shudder.  
  
"Raoul loves me." Christine practically hissed, her eyes set upon her husband as the two girls continued to fawn over him wantonly.  
  
Once again Catherine laid a hand over Christine's and spoke as sympathetically as possible. "My dear I'm sorry, truly I am if indeed they are correct. I do not doubt the boy loves you but he does have his duty. I couldn't imagine that anyone truly in love would force the other to neglect his family duty, not over a childish notion of marriage. You really ought to think of it more as a business transaction."  
  
Pulling away in disgust, Christine abruptly rose from her seat. The woman was infuriating! In a huff Christine stretched herself over the balcony again, unable to stand the sight of her. How could she speak like that! So confidently, as if she knew anything about their relationship, it made her blood boil. She even had the nerve to insult her right to her face! No wonder she was told to stay away from this woman...  
  
"I'm sorry if I've upset you Christine. Don't worry yourself simply because of my perspective. Sadly I find I spend too much time looking at the darker side of society." Catherine was now standing directly beside her. She was about an inch taller than Christine and looked at girl tenderly before gazing out the same direction she was. Christine simply tried to ignore her, silently wishing she would leave. She didn't like her so close.  
  
"It's beautiful isn't it?" Catherine began, almost more to herself than to the girl at her side. As reluctant as she was, Christine couldn't help but admire how beautiful the woman looked now that the glow of the moon shone upon her. Tiny jewels entwined in her hair began to sparkle as she moved; equally matching the lustrous shine of her eyes... they seemed much brighter now than they had when she was inside, more alive and almost feral with passion. "The night that is... so many retreat home to the safety of their beds once the sun falls, but they miss a new world of enchantment."  
  
Catherine turned to Christine, grinning mischievously as her face hovered only a few inches from the uneasy girl's. "It has a life of it's own you know," she began with undisguised rapture, her hand lightly grazing Christine's bare arm, sending a tremulous wave throughout her body. "A secret world that some will never even glimpse. If you listen closely enough, you can even hear its own music... it's a brilliant song really."  
  
Unable to will her self to move or speak, Christine allowed Catherine's eyes to pierce her with her gaze, leaving her nearly in a state of paralysis as Catherine pulled back slightly.  
  
"Tell me Christine, have you ever ridden over the country fields with only the starlight as your guide? Feeling the cold wind whip past you at a breath taking pace while tears were torn from your eyes?" her voice rose with euphoria with as she began to make excited gestures to the shadowed landscape. "Have you ever swam nude out into the sea and watched the magic of the moons luminescent glow reflect off the black waters and against your pale skin? Have you ever stayed up all night in the safety of the rustling trees and listened to the wolves sing only for you?"  
  
Suddenly she grasped the girl's arms and brought her face so close to hers that Christine almost thought she meant to kiss her. Catherine's eyes softened slightly at the sight of her alarmed face. "No, of course you don't." She sighed softly.  
  
Bringing her hand up, Catherine gently pushed Christine's hair from her face, smiling as she felt the girl tremble beneath her touch. Ever so slowly she descended closer and when Christine truly did believe she meant for their lips to touch, Catherine gave a slight turn of her head and instead whispered softly into her ear, "that's freedom. Life unknown to those too blind to seize it. You should take it Christine."  
  
And as abruptly as she had grabbed her, Catherine released the girl and with an air of confidence seated herself back at the small rusted table, filling the two glasses without even a glance at Christine.  
  
Christine's heart raced as she silently questioned what had just occurred and why she felt so oddly... invigorated? The heat of Catherine's breath still stung upon her skin, reminding her of their close proximity and of that strange sense of anticipation when their lips had nearly touched. A gripping excitement and fear had coursed through her at that moment; she would never be able to forget such a surreal sensation. Unable to find an answer to the many questions which flooded through her mind, Christine found it uncommonly easy to simply ignore them and took the seat across from her new companion.  
  
"Now, you must tell me all about yourself Christine. Especially since I just know we'll become the best of friends." Catherine said gaily, handing Christine her full glass. This was going to be easier then she thought, Catherine mused to herself as Christine began to lightly converse with her new found friend.  
  
~*~  
  
R&R Please ^_^ 


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: And it's back! The much over due update for this fic! Like usual this chapter contains less events then I originally hoped but that just means this story is going to keep getting longer. I know I've mentioned that this chapter would include a vampire masquerade but that was the thing that's been bumped to the next chapter but there is an upside, since I've already started writing it.  
  
Thank you all so much for your reviews so far! Writing this fic has been so much fun for me. And now for the question... is this a slash fic? Well that's kinda hard for me to answer without saying too much. Catherine does have a thing for Christine so there will be some slash elements here and there but I am an E/C shipper and Erik will be making his entrance in chapter 7. So to be blunt, no, Christine and Catherine do not "do it".

...

Catherine and Christine became inseparable after that night; Christine finally happy to have a friend and confidant, Catherine all too happy to fill the roll, winning the girls trust effortlessly. Not since that night had Christine witnessed any kind of strange behavior from her new friend, instead she found the companion she had been missing these past few years.  
  
Pretty soon Christine was spending almost every evening with Catherine, touring the various restaurants and theaters in the area late into the evening. It had been so long since Christine had felt such freedom! After the scandal at the opera house she was reluctant to go out anywhere at all, even after her marriage. Eventually, over time, she resumed her place in society, but was still fearful and never eager to be seen about.  
  
At first, it was indeed the fear that the man of her past would return to her, that he was not in fact dead, but then it gently grew to the fear of those around her. Christine knew Raoul's society did not approve of her, so she really didn't enjoy making herself open to be a target. With Catherine, Christine felt a new confidence; for once it was she turning up her nose to those who would give her a spiteful glare.  
  
Raoul, on the other hand, did not like Catherine nor did he trust her, but then he knew how lonely his wife had been and was not about to deny her a friend based on a subtle suspicion. Finding him self increasingly alone these evenings, he began rekindling old friendships which had fallen to the wayside due to his constant attentions to his wife and her reluctance to leave the house. It wasn't until he was once again actively a part of the Parisian elite that he realized how much he truly missed it. So while Christine and Catherine shared drinks at the most expensive restaurants in town, Raoul dined with some of the most respected families in Paris, both returning home to one another after a full evening of activities apart.

...

Catherine sat in the Chagny's parlor, sipping a glass of red wine while her hostess stared deeply into her own. "I was thinking tonight we go to the theater, I have tickets to the new comedy playing over on Rue de ---. What do you say?"  
  
Startled, Christine looked up from her glass. "Hmm? Oh, I'm sorry, I can't tonight. I was hoping to spend some time with Raoul; we've seen so little of each other lately."  
  
Hiding her disapproval with a kind smile, Catherine briefly nodded before finishing off the contents of her glass. "Oh, I understand. After all a wife's first duty is to her husband is it not? I've been keeping you away from the poor fellow for so long, he may start to think himself a bachelor."  
  
Catherine's last line was said in jest but Christine did not at all enjoy its possible implications. Smiling faintly at her friend, Christine too, finished her glass. The two girls talked on contently for the next hour until Raoul's arrival at the door interrupted their conversation.  
  
Christine at once greeted him in the entrance with a passionate kiss firmly planted on his surprised lips. He grinned down at his wife; happy to see she was obviously in a good mood. But then, as he glanced over her shoulder, was disconcerted to see Catherine staring coldly at him from the shadows of the other room. Not at all happy with their witness, Raoul moved away from Christine and nodded politely to the woman standing behind her. "Mademoiselle du Merrets, I am happy to see you in good health."  
  
"And you, Monsieur le Vicomte." She answered bitterly, keeping a keen eye on Christine's smiling face. "Well Christine, I suppose I'll be taking my leave now that I see you're in good hands. I shall see you later then, good day to you both."  
  
The two embraced lightly with Catherine placing a light peck on Christine's cheek before exiting the home. Once she was gone, Raoul regarded his wife once more. "I don't like her," he said shortly.  
  
Christine sighed. "I know," she breathed lightly before looking up at him with a gleam in her eye. Casually she snaked her arms around his neck, pulling him down towards her lips. "But she's not here right now."  
  
Lightly she brushed his lips with her own while letting a hand slightly wander through his hair. He was about to kiss her again when she pulled away playfully. "You know," she began in a contemplative voice, her hand lightly tracing over his shoulder. "There's this old floor board in that room of yours that I think is coming loose. Perhaps it would be a good idea for you to take a look at it?"  
  
Raoul gave a short laugh before taking a more serious stance. "A loose floor board? Well we can't have that, now can we? I think it'd be best if you showed me it right away."  
  
They both stared at each other straight faced for a moment before a wide grin spread across both their mouths. In a mad dash and barrage of childish giggles, the couple raced for the stairs leading to the master bedroom, only to break out into greater laughter when they were forced to push past a rather perplexed Sarah, who was about to clean up the front entrance. The poor, disheveled girl simply shook her head as she watched the two continue down the hall, Christine giving Raoul a light check in order to gain the lead, and musing how they really did look like a couple of playmates. She also took note not to go upstairs for a while; Christine was a natural soprano after all.  
  
An hour later, Christine rolled over in bed to the disappointing sight of Raoul getting dressed. "What are you doing?" she asked in a tired voice while propping herself up on an elbow.  
  
"Getting dressed?" he answered innocently, fastening his pants.  
  
Christine took a moment to admire her husband as the light shone through from the window behind him before replying. She watched with a smirk as his defined muscular form bent to pick up his shirt, which had been tossed carelessly to the ground, while his golden locks fell in an unruly state over his brow. It was no wonder to her why she was the envy of most women in Paris. "I can see that, but why? I was hoping to spend the evening together."  
  
"I'd truly love to but I have already promised Monsieur Tome that I would be a guest at his household tonight. I'm sorry but I assumed you were going out with Mademoiselle du Merrets." He looked apologetically at his wife as her brow creased with disappointment in a manner which he found undeniably cute. "Perhaps another night."  
  
He then moved forward and kissed her crimson lips, which she returned in a way, which seriously caused him to reconsider getting back into that bed. Reluctantly he parted and with a loud sigh of regret, continued to make himself presentable.  
  
Christine, not at all pleased, waited for her husband to leave before she too washed and dressed for the evening. While continuing to mutter under her breath, she decided to see if she could track down Catherine at the theater. If Raoul had better things to do, then so would she, and she'd be damned if the first one home tonight was her. After picking out one of her more flattering dresses and pinning up her hair, she grabbed her cloak and rushed from the house.

...

"Christine! My goodness, what ever are you doing here?" Catherine stood out side the theater, surprised yet pleased to see her friend step out of a carriage and walk towards her, smiling brightly.  
  
"Raoul had plans," she answered shortly while straightening her dress, which had been wrinkled from the carriage ride. "I hope I'm not too late to take you up on that offer?"  
  
"You're lucky, I was about to give away our tickets. My you look stunning this evening." Catherine looked over the attractive girl in front of her approvingly before taking her hand and moving towards the entrance.  
  
Christine blushed slightly, still not used to receiving complements from anyone but Raoul, but she was happy her desired effect for the evening was working. "Thank you."  
  
After an evening of laughter at the theater the two dinned on the patio of a small restaurant not far from their location, taking their time and enjoying the summer's warm night air. Candles lit the small scattered tables with a few lanterns strategically placed around the patio, illuminating the area with a soft glow as the two girls nursed their drinks... Christine was determined not to return home till at least after eleven o'clock and Catherine was all too happy to comply.  
  
The woman who was beautiful in the light but could be mistaken for Diana herself once under the stars, made a frantic gesture with a shocked expression on her face. "You mean to tell me that he just left you there, alone in his bed? And he didn't even invite you to go with him? That alone would cause me to raise an eyebrow. If it were I, I'd have half a mind to find someone else to warm my sheets if he was so incapable of doing so!"  
  
"Oh don't be silly, it's perfectly understandable that he assumed I would be out," Christine replied with a laugh.  
  
"That doesn't change the fact that he'd rather spend the evening with Monsieur Tome and his two prissy daughters, than with a beautiful woman. Don't act like you didn't notice how many heads turned in your direction when you walked into that theater, the man's a fool."  
  
Christine only gave a half smile as Catherine spoke, she had forgotten about his daughters. "I can't say I ever liked Mademoiselles Jaclyn or Marie. They tend to enjoy my husband's company a little too thoroughly."  
  
It was then Catherine's turn to laugh. "Now who's being silly? Even if you don't trust your husband, which I know you do, they are still respectable woman, not at all the kind you have to worry about. Neither would dare take a lover without being married first. They're proper, good woman, the kind who would make excellent wives. Their main priority is catching that husband who would cause them to be the envy of most women in Paris." Catherine grinned confidently while watching Christine, who did not look at all impressed, with a scrutinizing gaze. "Let us leave this ridiculous subject. I've actually got something I'd like to give to you."  
  
Christine watched incredulously as Catherine pulled from her purse a long, thin, red silk ribbon and moved to stand behind the confused girl. Gently, she placed the ribbon around Christine's neck, taking care to allow her fingers to lightly brush her skin before tying it securely at the back of her neck, allowing the two loose strands to hang down her exposed back. Christine could not help but close her eyes and savior the feeling of that cool fabric sliding across her skin in combination with Catherine's caress. When she opened her heavy lids, Catherine was once again seated across from her, looking on very seriously.  
  
"I am throwing a sort of masquerade at my estate this Friday, of which I would like you to attend. As I have mentioned before, my circle of friends vary greatly from the ones you're used to, so it is imperative that you continue to wear this ribbon till I remove it for you. Think of it as a sort of guest pass, if you like, but do not remove it! It will be seen as a great sign of disrespect, and I do not trust all of my associates to act with restraint if you do." Christine was startled at first by the serious manner in which she was being addressed but then as she continued to listen and nod, she became filled with intrigue and anticipation. Never before had Catherine invited her to her home, but often she had alluded to its less than typical occupants.  
  
It was not long before they decided that it would be best to retire for the night. The streets had grown bare, and though Christine wished to annoy her husband with her absence, she did not entirely want for him to begin to worry about her. So after a short carriage ride, the two parted ways in front of the Chagny estate, Christine rushing to the door while Catherine watched, knowing it would not be long now.

...

Please R&R 


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: All right! I'm very excited and as always, nervous to bring you this chapter. It's the longest one I've written between all my stories (I figured you'd be pissed if I cut it in half and didn't post the masquerade again) but I've put a tone of effort into it, hoping to make it live up to the vision in my mind. Please, please, please, let me know what you think! I've had an absolutely wonderful time writing this one, locking myself in my room, getting my candles lit, and blasting :wumpscut: to get myself into the right mood to pull this off.  
  
I should probably give you a slash warning, this is one of the slashy'st chapters this story will have (still nothing major though) so if you have a strong disliking for that kind of stuff you might want to skip the last few paragraphs but I wouldn't suggest it. Oh and thank you so much for the offer Feya but I'd feel awkward troubling someone else with my work, at least with my friends I can buy them coffee afterwards ; )  
  
So yeah, I really hope you like this one, enjoy!

...

"I understand you're bringing your pet tonight." It was Aiden; she'd recognize his voice anywhere. Catherine was just cutting through his study and had hoped he wouldn't be there; they tended not to get along too well at times. He was also the only one in the coven that could actually match her in strength, which seemed to get put to the test more frequently than not.  
  
Catherine rounded on him furiously. "She is not a pet!"  
  
"Really? She's been following you around like a puppy for the past month and yet you've made no move to change her. Perhaps she is not as willing as you had hoped?" he replied confidently as he took a seat by the large fire.  
  
"I simply made a small underestimation, after tonight she'll see things differently. It's that damn boy, he still holds her to this life."  
  
"You're jealous," he said with out looking at her, but knew that he had struck a nerve.  
  
Catherine's reply came more as a hiss than actual words, "you would be wise to watch what you say Aiden. I am not above throwing you into that fire, just to watch you scream."  
  
He laughed. "If you can recall, it used to be I who would make you scream."  
  
Her eyes went wide with rage as she regarded his cocky form, resting so calmly in that chair. Refusing to dignify him with a response, she furiously stormed out of the room; she'd show him for making such comments. Aiden simply enjoyed his small victory, knowing he had gotten off light; Catherine was known for having a bad temper.  
  
Only a moment later he gasped out in stabbing pain. He looked down at the peculiar sight of the end of a rapier protruding from his now bloodstained shirt.  
  
Catherine smiled wryly to herself, letting go of the swords handle and coming around to face him. There were many things that could kill a vampire, but a piece of metal through your gut was not one of them, though it certainly hurt quite a bit. He looked up at her, enraged but she simply giggled back at his shocked expression.  
  
"I suggest you get changed, seems you've got blood on your shirt," she said with a grin before skipping out of the room, leaving him to struggle with the sword while cursing under his breath.

...

"Christine, I don't trust that woman. I must insist that you not go to that party," Raoul called to his wife as she rushed down the main staircase.  
  
Christine shot him a furious glare as she stopped midway down the steps, her hands still gripping the sides of her skirts. "She's my friend and I'm going."  
  
Taking advantage of her momentary pause, Raoul ran to catch up with her. He managed to just get in front of his defiant wife, successfully cutting off her path and causing her brow to pinch together in that adorable manner he so loved. "Well then I'm going with you."  
  
"You were not invited," she said while trying to push past him.  
  
"I am your husband. I have a right to go."  
  
They stared at each other at eye level with Raoul just a step below her. Christine's voice changed to a more pleading tone as she beheld his worried eyes. "Please Raoul; if you deny me this, I swear I'll never forgive you."  
  
"But why? What is so important about this evening?" He really was trying to understand her, but just couldn't see things her way. It was one thing dealing with her and Catherine's escapades throughout town, but there was something about this party that just didn't sit right with him. Catherine had brought her a magnificent black and red dress to wear that made her look positively enchanting yet sad and almost ghostly. Her hair too, was worn down, and entwined with red beads, which shone in the light, giving an ethereal beauty to her. Everything about her told him there was more to this than meets the eye, and he didn't like it.  
  
"Raoul, please don't be mad at me, but just let me have this one night to myself..."  
  
"You've had every night to yourself for the past month. It's not right that we spend so much time apart. People are starting to talk, Christine."  
  
She pulled back from him angrily. "No Raoul, they were always talking. They talked about how their darling Vicomte de Chagny was seduced by an ambitious social climbing actress who had no right to marry him. Now that what they say actually concerns your reputation, you actually care.  
  
Stepping up beside her, he looked at her, hurt that she could ever think such a thing. "Now you know it's not like that at all. Surely you don't classify me with those people?"  
  
The pained tone in his voice cut into her, guiltily. It seemed she was becoming more and more defensive these days for no reason, finding insults where there were none. Suddenly ashamed for what she had said, Christine collapsed into his worried arms. "No, I'm sorry... it's just so frustrating sometimes."  
  
He held her close, lightly running a hand over her decorated hair. "Hey, look at it this way, at least you don't have two meddlesome sisters constantly at you, pointing out who they thought would have made great wives and how their families would have helped the half a dozen sons I would have to new levels of prestige. You'd think I was twelve the way they still poke at me."  
  
Raoul meant it jokingly but when he felt Christine's body stiffen against him, realized it was probably not the brightest thing to say at the moment. Wanting to change the subject quickly, he remembered the small box jabbing into his side from his coat pocket. Stepping back, he retrieved the light velvet case and presented it to his wife. "Here, I bought something for you. I felt bad for leaving you the other day and when I saw this, I knew you would love it."  
  
Shocked, Christine slowly took the gift and opened it with guarded surprise. With a gasp, she beheld the contents while Raoul smiled brightly. Inside rested a thin, platinum bracelet set with alternating rubies and diamonds across the top with the platinum twisting around them in an almost Celtic design. Truly she had never seen anything quite like it. "Oh Raoul, it's beautiful."  
  
"Well if you insist on wearing that ridiculous ribbon, which I'm convinced makes you look as though your family's been sent to the guillotine, then you need something to draw the attention away from your neck."  
  
Christine held out her hand with the widest grin on her face as Raoul proudly fastened the bracelet around her wrist. She then practically jumped into her husband's unsuspecting arms, kissing him firmly on the lips and forcing him to hold her up as she leaned all her weight against him.  
  
A much-embarrassed Sarah then interrupted the happy couple with a cough, announcing her presence at the base of the staircase. "Mademoiselle du Merrets's coach has arrived for you Madam."  
  
"Well you had better get going then," Raoul whispered into her ear, still holding her close. She kissed him lightly once more before pulling away.  
  
"Don't wait up, and thank you, for everything." She then skipped the rest of the way down the stairs and out the door, flashing him an excited smile before exiting.

...

Christine traveled alone but saw Catherine waiting for her at the front gates of what must have been her massive estate. The two walked in silence till they reached the front door, Christine busy taking in the sight of the expansive gardens and Catherine regarding her carefully.  
  
At last Catherine spoke once they reached the imposing front doors, "Welcome to my home Christine." She opened them to reveal an entranceway like any other but already Christine could hear the sounds of excitement and merry making trailing into the room. Catherine led the girl quickly down a hall to the left and pushed open two great, beautifully carved doors, which lead to the main room of festivities.  
  
Christine was awe struck as she and her companion entered the large room. People dressed in dark attire and small masks, which only covered the eyes, were scattered about in different groups, talking and laughing loudly with one another. The outfits them selves were not what she expected. Though many were dressed formally, most were not. A large number of the men wore only simple, loosely fitted shirts with dress pants, while some of the women were dressed simply scandalously. Many of their skirts were quite short, and almost all the women had ridiculously low necklines. Christine was also shocked to see that there were even some wearing trousers. She did not fail to notice a few with the same silk ribbon, tied carefully round their necks, as well.  
  
A small band played the most peculiar music from the front, right corner of the room. It was at a medium to fast pace with a very strong underlying bass melody, the high strings playing longer drawn out chords in harmony, and the most eerie sounding flute did an imitation of the bass melody. Christine found the music to calm and excite her all at once. It seemed to do the same to the crowed, as there were a few dancing close by while others simply lounged and watched the musician with a sublime expression on their faces.  
  
The room itself was not of a normal layout. Along the far right wall was a set of doors, immediately followed by a wide staircase curving around to the back wall where a balcony ran across with a few doors leading away. Below on the back wall, was a small platform, on which sat a large throne lined with black velvet and gold armrests and detailing. Immediately to the left of it were a few steps that lead to another plateau about five feet high. On this raised floor sat a few chairs and a table against the banister, so one could watch the on goings of the floor from a raised position. The back went in deep, going right underneath aforementioned balcony because of the height difference; this section was more like a small cave only three feet high and lined with oversized pillows for lounging.  
  
The coloring of the room was very earthy in tones, mainly stained wood, maroons, reds, and blacks made up the few bits of furniture and walls. Long tables filled with punch bowls and various platters lined the sidewalls and seemed to be a popular spot for many of the guests to stand, most of which holding an ever-filled goblet in their hands. Strange incense filled the entire room, penetrating Christine's senses with its intoxicating aroma and filling the area with a thin blanket of smoke.  
  
Catherine turned to the girl who was already becoming lost in the swirl of color, smoke, and music drifting ever over her. "I know this must all seem strange to you Christine, we come from very different worlds. But keep in mind, before you pass judgment, that I consider many of these people my family and that what one can find inappropriate, can be completely natural to another person. This is not a place of judgment, no one would dare speak of what goes on here to anyone not present, I do expect you to do the same."  
  
Catherine looked very sternly at Christine as she spoke. Tonight was no game, and should Christine not keep her promise, Catherine knew what she would have to do, but she was sure the girl could be trusted. "That being said, also know that you are at liberty to do whatever you like, whatever your heart desires. Tonight is a night of freedom, something I know you're not used to."  
  
Christine simply nodded her head, her eyes trailing from one form to another as each masked body walked by, occasionally giving her a slight nod or raise of a glass. All the thoughts in her head seemed to run into one another, not allowing her to concentrate on any one thing but only drifted constantly away from her grasp. Her hand was suddenly cold; someone had taken hold of it.  
  
"Ah, you must be Christine. It is of the greatest pleasure to finally meet you." With the faintest smile, Christine allowed the man to raise her hand to his lips. She flinched slightly at the cold sensation but her mind quickly drifted away from it as their eyes met. "My name is Aiden and if there is anything I can do for you, do not hesitate to ask." His words were like honey to her ears while his eyes violated her own with their hollow stare, only escalated by that thin wrap of leather forming his simply shaped black mask. His looks, like his voice, were ageless. Neither young nor old but impassioned yet emotionless he stood there, with that same aura of strength she found in Catherine.  
  
"Aiden, like my self, holds a certain seniority among our little group here. If you can not find me, he is the one to go to." Catherine spoke in an almost mocking sarcastic tone while facing Aiden.  
  
Rolling his eyes, the man moved away and quickly returned with two full goblets in hand. With a smirk and a bow, he placed one in each of the women's hands. "For the ladies of the house."  
  
"Thank you Aiden, now if you'll excuse us." Taking Christine's hand lightly, Catherine led her through the crowd and sat themselves on the steps to the semi-raised plateau at the back of the room. "Tell me Christine, what are your thoughts?"  
  
Finally gaining some form of control of her senses, Christine regarded her friend while carefully choosing her words. "It's like being in a dream yet not... constantly on the verge of waking, yet constantly drifting just below the surface of a shimmering lake, just seeing the glow of stars above through its glass ceil. I'm floating yet drowning... does that make any sense?"  
  
"Perfect, my dear," she answered, lightly stroking the dazed Christine's face with the tips of her fingers. "It's utterly perfect." She watched as Christine raised the goblet to her lips, while echoing the unspoken words under her breath. "It's like being alive yet dead."  
  
The thick, potent liquid pored down her throat with ease. It had the queerest taste, causing her to stare curiously into that black pool resting in the bottom of her cup. "What is this?" she asked with unhidden intrigue.  
  
The shocked expression on Christine's face was enough to bring out Catharine's joyous laughter. "We call it Styra wine my dear." Rising from the step, she gestured to the crowd dancing on the floor. An odd excitement seemed to come over her as Christine watched in fascination.  
  
"Tonight Christine, we are the Bacchae, may we drink to Dionysus and all his pleasures!" And with that, she drained the contents of her cup, signaling for Christine to do the same. She did, and while giggling playfully, Catherine pulled the girl to her feet. "It seems we've let our goblets run dry, not something we allow to last for very long here."  
  
Christine couldn't help but laugh as her friend pulled her up with ease, but her brow pinched together as she looked over Catherine's shoulder. Turning to see what had caused the girl's change in expression, Catherine too, was momentarily stunned as they watched a door to the right open.  
  
Out came two men dragging an unconscious woman effortlessly between them while talking happily to one another. Unable to pull her eyes away, Christine could only stare dumbly at the woman's limply hanging head, gently rolling against her chest as she was pulled away. Her hair fell loosely down her face, successfully blocking Christine's view of the young girl's features as the men each held an arm around their necks. But it was the sight of those feet, dragging silently against the smooth surface of the floor as they carried her away, which truly unsettled Christine.  
  
Forcing a broad smile on her face, Catherine turned back to Christine. "It appears someone has been drinking a little too much, too soon. Excuse me a moment." She then hastily followed the others into the adjoining room, leaving Christine alone on the steps. Without Catherine's anchoring presences, she found herself once again becoming lost in the atmosphere and slipped back down onto the steps, losing all train of thought.  
  
"Another drink Christine? We prefer not to see a glass empty, our stream must always be flowing you see." It was Aiden now at her side, pushing a full goblet into her receptive hands. She gazed momentarily into that tempting black pool of liquid before acknowledging the man's presence, as though contemplating how this glass was now in her grasp. "Perhaps you'll join me for a dance?"  
  
Without giving an answer she was already on the floor, goblet in one hand, Aiden in the other. He moved her across that heavily polished surface quickly, encouraging her to drink at every slow interval of music. In and out of couples they turned, moving with ease through the crowd, and leaving the room to seem constantly in motion. All the colors of the room swirled into one and nothing existed except everything as the drinks intoxicating effects descended on her clouded mind.  
  
She was aware though, of Catherine's keen eye, ever on her from where she was perched atop the large thrown. It was the one spot in the room that didn't seem to be in perpetual motion, all these blurs, yet there was Catherine. Sprawled out sideways, with one foot on the armrest, she watched carefully over her young protégé, who was laughing in delight as Aiden once more spun her around.  
  
Again and again she twirled about while the music escalated and the laughter increased all around her. She was not with Aiden now, but someone else, then another, oh and then there was another body being carried away, but no, she was once again passed off. It didn't matter to whom, she just didn't want to stop, and the hours pasted on, but then she did stop, it was Catherine now leading her away. "Come with me Christine, you should take a rest."  
  
Catherine led her up the steps to the small plateau and sat her at one of the chairs. Christine knew Catherine was there but she just couldn't take her eyes off that mass of swirling color just beneath them, it appeared they were dancing just for her, everything here was for her. And there went another body; someone else had drunk too much. Aiden and Catherine were talking now but she couldn't hear them, she could hear nothing but that pulsating rhythm driving into her soul, she could feel nothing but the heat of the air lifting her away, she could see nothing but that dance, that wave of motion which moved only for her.  
  
"For wanting her to come willingly, you've certainly done a good job of keeping her drugged up."  
  
Catherine glared at Aiden as he stood just below them, on the main floor. "That is none of your concern, besides, when I do change her, she won't be. This is just to give her glimpse of our world."  
  
"If you say so." With a shrug, he then disappeared back into the ever- crowded floor.  
  
"Christine?" she whispered loudly, running the tips of her fingers down the girl's face but receiving no response. "What would you do for me Christine, if I offered you the world? Gave you all your dreams and life eternal?" She continued to trace her cheek lightly, following the curve of her jaw to the vein in her neck, while calling to her in a pitiful voice. "Would you love me then? Would you die for me then?"  
  
She then took the girl's hand in her own and gazed upon it intensely, the same way Christine gazed out over the motion of people just beyond their perch. Christine could only vaguely feel Catherine run her hand down her arm, taking her time with her gentle caress, and settling at her wrist. Gasping at the sudden pain, Christine still could not break her eyes away from the floor as Catherine's teeth sunk into that delicate layer flesh, her lips clasping tightly around her wounded wrist.  
  
The dream simply continued as her body weakened with each passing moment. The people below continued to dance on in a frenzied manner, their passion escalating to a new height as the minutes had passed by. Again a body was taken away, but there seemed to be lovers in every corner of the room now, people tightly embraced shamefully with one another yet everything seemed the way it should.  
  
"You are not blind Christine. There is a whole other world waiting for you, calling to you. There is nothing here for you, only regret. I can see that, I can see many things, things you won't even admit to yourself. You can leave this life, this regret, and start anew. Reality is only a dream and dreams are real, is that not true? True to us, people who never belonged here? Leave the dream and become real, become what you are."  
  
Catherine tilted Christine's head towards her, forcing the girl's eyes to break with that crowd and look into her own. Her sharp teeth bit into her tongue, allowing a thin layer of blood to spread over her crimson lips. Vampire blood was of the sweetest ambrosia to a human; she would give Christine a taste of her world too.  
  
The girl looked at Catherine with fogged over eyes, comprehending nothing as she descended closer. Apprehensively, Catherine kissed her, her bloodstained lips trembling, and slowly allowing her sweet elixir to trickle into the girl's unsuspecting mouth.  
  
At the first taste of that glorious, thick liquid, Christine pushed forward, wantonly drinking in every last drop that escaped Catherine's parted mouth. The taste was pure ecstasy to Christine, a dream causing her to whimper when she was at last released from that blissful embrace. Catherine gasped, her eyes burning with desire but knowing she must stop lest she forget herself. She would give Christine that final choice no matter what and this was not the time.  
  
"You're tired Christine, you should rest," she said with a shaking voice, her face flushed as Christine's own blood coursed through her body. Catherine helped the weak, entranced girl from her seat, and led her to lie on the small bed of pillows, lining the back wall. Catherine sat beside her peaceful sleeping form, resting a hand on Christine's while watching the party. "Sleep Christine, sleep and forever dream."

...

R&R Please, I'm very curious how this one came off. BTW: you're all going to hate me after the next chapter. It'll also be another long one, but yeah, you'll hate me. 


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: ok, sorry for the two-week break but I hope this is worth it. We've got a bit of a time jump so let me know if it doesn't make any sense at all. And once again in advance for this chapter, sorry.

...

Raoul read and reread the paper gently held within his trembling hands. The words, the paper, the penmanship, they all were Christine's and yet he could not bring himself to believe that she could ever write such a thing. He had to sit down, had to catch his breath and think this calmly over, there must be something he was missing.  
  
Again his eyes scanned the carefully worded letter, unable to help noticing the few smudged letters, which ran with ink from salty droplets. Why? Why would she do this? What had he done? Surly she did not mean this?  
  
He collapsed into his chair with a loud aggravated sigh, refusing to let his emotions run rampant when he needed to think. He did not want to add any more smudges to that despairing note.  
  
My beloved Raoul,  
  
Again and again I think over how to start this but in the end I know  
my words will mean nothing compared to pain I am sure this letter will  
certainly bring you. Nothing I say could possibly make you understand  
why I'm doing this, there are times when I don't even understand my  
self but I know I must, for both of us.  
  
I hope with all my heart that you do not doubt my love for you. I love  
you. I love you, I love you, I love you, and I will carry that love  
with me throughout eternity! But my weakness, my inadequacy has held  
you down for far too long. You deserve better, for I am, in the end,  
inadequate. It is not for today but for the future that I leave, a  
future, which I know if we had together, could only end in pain. So I  
leave now with the perfect memory of my loving husband, my own heroic  
fairy tale prince. Let me leave with that fairy tale for the reality  
of our situation is far too great a burden for me to bear. You deserve  
so much more then I can offer; yet I know no words I give could  
possibly express how sorry I am for everything I have put you through.  
I am sorry.  
  
I love you Raoul, but I no longer belong to this world and my life is  
gone.  
  
Christine  
  
That was it! That was her explanation, but what did it mean? Had she simply ran away or was that last line the only full truth this letter had to deliver? He could not possibly think such a thing, not Christine, she would never! But why! How could she do this to him? Inadequacy; the word made him want to punch his fist through the wall! How could she possibly think herself inadequate?  
  
Just as fast as it came, Raoul's brief anger subsided to panicked despair. With a cold sweat breaking out over his brow, his entire body began to tremble with the full meaning of her words setting in. Christine, his cherished, beloved, precious Christine, was gone.  
  
For the past two weeks, ever since that damned party, Christine had been acting oddly. He had hoped that after their small argument they would begin to spend more time together, but instead the exact opposite occurred. Christine became more like a ghost than a wife in their home, simply passing by, only returning to sleep late at night and leaving again come mid afternoon. She never even checked in to see if Raoul were awake before retireing to her own separate room for the night, only giving him the impression she were purposely avoiding him.  
  
Last night though she had come to him. It had been past midnight when the soft creek of the door and the gentle sound of bare feet lightly pattering across the wood floor, awakened Raoul. When he did at last look up with eyes heavy from sleep, he beheld a pensive, wavering Christine standing silently at his bedside. She was wearing only a simple cotton nightgown with her hair hanging messily over her shoulders, and looked as though she were nothing more then a timid child awoken by a nightmare.  
  
"What's wrong?" Raoul asked in a groggy yet concerned voice as the girl stood like a specter before him.  
  
Her eyes darted nervously around the room before she found her words. "May... May I sleep here, tonight?" she whispered apprehensively.  
  
"Of course! But something is upsetting you?"  
  
The girl looked away as she slipped her body between the cool sheets and lied stiffly at Raoul's side, holding the covers to her chin.  
  
"Christine? Please, won't you tell me what's wrong?" Raoul cautiously asked again, not taking his eyes off the unsure girl.  
  
"I... I just... could you just, please, hold me tonight?" she whispered with a heartbreaking note in her childlike voice.  
  
"I would be honored to," he answered without hesitation, though was momentarily stunned by the force of grip Christine clung to him by. Immediately Raoul enveloped his arms protectively around her, whispering softly in her ear that everything was all right, but this only seemed to make her tighten her grasp.  
  
Eventually Raoul felt her form relax yet he knew she wasn't yet asleep. He was aware instead of a few wet droplets falling occasionally to his chest and filling his soul with agony for his inability to comfort his precious Christine. But in the end the soothing rhythm of her light breath lulled him back to sleep.  
  
When he awoke the next morning she was gone.  
  
For the next two weeks Raoul searched the city relentlessly using all the methods money could buy. He would not go to the police though; he did not wish to show them the letter for surely they would only assume she had taken her own life. He could not bear to have the church declare his wife a suicide. She must be alive!  
  
He also spent a good amount of time screaming at Catherine, for who else could be responsible for Christine's sudden change of heart? Time and time again he was dismissed abruptly from her manor, Catherine only stating that she too was doing her best to find the missing girl. Raoul, of course, did not believe her for one minute and made a point to check in with Mademoiselle du Merrets daily, if only to harass her with his exasperated questioning.  
  
The evenings though were the worst for him. Too late to continue his endless search, he would instead spend the idol hours locked away in his study, refusing to speak to anyone, and with a full bottle of brandy to keep him company. It was then that he would find himself collapsing into utter despair, questioning everything he had ever done, and trying to understand why.  
  
By Sunday Raoul was at a loss. The entire house was empty as he sat forlornly in his barren bedroom. Motionless and completely lost in thought, he stared blankly beyond the wall, searching for some unseen, hidden answer. He simply didn't know what more he could do.  
  
"Raoul?" Christine's voice nervously whispered.  
  
Great, now he was hearing things too, he thought with a sigh.  
  
"Raoul, I'm sorry. I made a mistake..."  
  
No, he must have truly heard that. Slowly he rose and turned to the direction of the window, from which the voice had drifted. He was speechless, for there she was, more beautiful then he could ever remember, looking on with frightened eyes.  
  
"Can you forgive me?" she asked with slightly more volume to her voice, her eyes pleading to his own as tears were about to break.  
  
"Yes," was all he could breathe before striding towards her purposefully. She was back was all his mind could register; it was all he wanted to care about. Of course he would forgive her. He would love her and cherish her all the more protectively and never give her a reason to frown again!  
  
"Raoul wait," she said urgently, stopping him sufficiently in his steps. "I've done something terrible, you must listen carefully. There isn't much time. If you truly forgive me and you truly love me, you must trust me and listen."  
  
Raoul could only nod, becoming hesitant as the fear in Christine's voice rose.  
  
"We must leave here immediately. Take what money you can but we will not be safe here for much longer. They will not take long to find me... do you still own a revolver? We should probably grab that too. I will explain everything once we are safe, just please, we must hurry!"  
  
Panic ran rampant throughout Christine's body with every passing second but still Raoul stood there as though in some sort of shock. With her mind racing, Christine lunged forward, her emotions taking over, and kissed her husband fully on the lips, just barely containing her sobs. With tears streaming down Christine's face, she clasped Raoul's cheeks softly in her hands, holding his head close as she searched his adoring eyes.  
  
"I'm sorry Raoul, I'm so so sorry for everything I have done to you. I love and I'm sorry," she cried quietly to him, wishing with all her heart she could undo the past.  
  
It took only a moment for Raoul to make up his mind. He took Christine's hands in his own, kissing each lightly before he spoke. "It'll only take me only a minute to get our things. I trust you. I love you."  
  
With one last sorrowful look, Raoul parted from Christine and began rummaging through a desk with haste. It was then that he heard Christine's blood curdling scream of terror and grief twisted into one agonizing word, "No!"  
  
As though appearing from nowhere, Catherine stood in the room with them, just in front of the doors to the balcony. Her face showed no emotion as she stood there, staring straight at the boy opposite her. Christine fell to her knees at once, tears streaming down her face and lightly grasping at the hem of Catherine's dress.  
  
Raoul was simply dumb struck, his emotions were nothing but a wave of confused thoughts as questions and theories occupied his mind, trying to find some meaning in the scene playing out in front of him.  
  
Christine's face looked up at Catherine's in complete panic and desperation; she knew she had just lost her last chance at escape once that woman arrived. "Please Catherine, no. I'll do anything. I swear it! I'll come back, I'll never leave again, just please don't hurt him. He has nothing to do with this!"  
  
Still she did not look at the frighten girl as she tugged at her side. Her eyes instead remained ever fixed on the man before her. "I beg to differ. You left me and now you are here, why else would you be here if not for him? Besides you are coming back with me, it will make no difference what happens to him."  
  
Raoul was both horrified and confused by what he heard; yet he found himself unable to speak. Her ominous, foreboding presence held him fast in disbelief of the true meaning of their words.  
  
"Then let us leave now –" Christine answered with a hint of hope and rising herself clumsily from the floor.  
  
"Odd how only a moment ago you were getting ready to run away together, now you rush to come back? If you're never going to see him again, what does it matter? You really should take my threats more seriously in the future."  
  
Christine gasped and took hold of her hand, forcing her to at last acknowledge her presence. Tears traced down Christine's face as she looked from Catherine to Raoul and back, fear once again taking complete hold of her. She spoke with disbelieving agony, her words poring forth in a whispered plea. "Please Catherine don't. How could you do this to me? How could you do this when you say you love me? You can't expect me to ever forgive you?"  
  
"You left me!" Catherine screamed all at once, pulling her hand away and throwing the trembling girl hard against the floor.  
  
Christine fell in a heap next to the wall. While shaking violently, she curled her knees up, and hugging them close to her chest in a child like manner with red, tearful eyes, just peering over. Catherine towered above the girl, her walled up fury at last breaching its dam, ready to strike down the cause of her pain.  
  
"Christine!" cried Raoul, taking a few quick steps in the direction of his fallen wife, only to stop as Catherine's blazing eyes shot up and caught him in her gruesome stare.  
  
"Quite boy, this doesn't concern you."  
  
"You lied to me!" Christine screamed back, seeing that once again her attention had turned to Raoul. "You ticked me into leaving. I would have never left, had I known!"  
  
Catherine glared at her but managed to regain some control of her temper. She answered calmly, "I did no such thing. Do not blame me for your misconceived delusions."  
  
"I was pregnant!" she cried out in a betrayed voice, not daring to steal a look in Raoul's direction.  
  
Catherine raised a single eyebrow at Christine's exclamation. So she found out about that? Must have over heard her and Adian mentioning it the day before, she thought to herself in irritation.  
  
Catherine then began to approach the retreating girl with only a predator's grace. "I'm actually inclined to say that that was his fault, not mine."  
  
Only half comprehending the scene in front of him, Raoul had grabbed his revolver from the desk, the words 'was pregnant' still replaying themselves bitterly in his mind. "Leave her alone," he yelled, aiming towards the woman whose back had momentarily turned to him.  
  
"Why, you're even a bigger fool then I thought," she said in grim amusement, slightly impressed by the boy's daring. "If you're planning to shoot, I suggest you do it, though I have to wonder if you've ever shot an unarmed woman before."  
  
In his moment of hesitation, Catherine's form moved with impossible speed to his back and fiercely griped his hand on the trigger. All he saw was a quick blur of motion before feeling her hot breath at his neck.  
  
"What the..."  
  
"It's alright, you would've missed anyways," Catherine began to answer softly into his ear and grinning mischievously at Christine. "But I was standing fairly close to your wife, wasn't I? How much faith do you have in your aim I wonder?"  
  
Christine's eyes went wide with horror, too fearful to move lest she provoke the woman's anger further. Despite Raoul's greatest effort to move, Catherine's strength was too much for him and with calm indifference she moved his aim to Christine's direction.  
  
"No," he gasped out in shock, continuing to struggle to push her away.  
  
"Catherine, stop it!" shouted Christine furiously, finally pulling her self up from the cold wood floor. But as soon as she took one defiant step closer, Catherine pressed down on Raoul's trembling hand.  
  
The sound was deafening as the shot rang out through the room. Raoul cried out in unison with Christine as the blow sent her sprawling back onto the floor, a thin layer of blood quickly spreading over her dress from where she clutched herself at the side. Shocked by the excruciating pain coursing brutally throughout her body, she simply lowered her head and stared at the thick red liquid escaping over her desperate hands.  
  
"No, Christine!" Raoul screamed with undone rage and passion, fighting with all his remaining endurance to run to his fallen wife's side, thinking the worst but was no match for Catherine. Unable to escape, he could do nothing but fall to his knees in disbelieving defeat. Tears began to slip from his blurred eyes while soft incoherent cries came from his mouth.  
  
Catherine smiled in satisfaction as she gripped the weakening boy tightly. But no, this still wasn't enough to quench her fury. Christine had made the mistake of taking her words lightly and then running to the arms of this simpleton, throwing away everything she had ever done for the girl without even confronting her first!  
  
With her grin turning into a snarl, Catherine wrench the boy's hand up, forcing his aim to turn to a knew victim. He himself was to weak out of grief and hopelessness to put up any sort of final fight.  
  
Christine slowly raised her eyes to the horrific sight before her and gasped out as incredible fear once again gripped at her very soul.  
  
"How poetic, husband accidentally shoots wife and then turns gun on self out of grief and guilt," spouted Catherine ironically as she held the gun stiffly to the trembling boy's temple.  
  
Christine clasped her bloody hands together, making her last desperate attempt at Catherine's sympathy, begging with tears streaming down her face as she looked from Raoul to the impassive figure looming at his side. "Catherine, stop. Please! I'm begging you! Anything, I swear. Anything at all! I'm sorry for leaving, I was wrong, I shouldn't have. I was foolish and angry; surely you can forgive me my simple overreaction. I'm desperate, please! You know I could never truly leave you! I'm yours for eternity; you know that, at least let him have this one small lifetime. I'm sorry! I'm sorry..."  
  
There was a long pause of silence between the three of them where only the thumping of their racing hearts could be heard. Sweat beaded down Raoul's face while Catherine seemed to be in silent contemplation, staring at Christine coldly.  
  
"You will find Christine, that I can be a reasonable woman." Catherine answered at last, looking at the crying, broken girl sympathetically and then slowly tossing the gun to the side.  
  
Christine let out the breath she had been holding in relief as Raoul stayed in his position, awe struck.  
  
"The thing is Christine," Catherine continued on, idly threading her fingers in a playful manner through Raoul's hair. "I am also a very jealous woman, and I don't like competition."  
  
The next thing Christine saw was Catherine's savage claws gripping her husband's skull and twisting it brutally to the side, allowing the loud sound of a crack to entirely fill her auditory senses. As though in slow motion, Raoul's lifeless body was flung limply to her knees, his eyes still wide in horror.  
  
"No!" Christine screamed with all the power her voice allowed, before scrambling helplessly to Raoul's side. Pulling his limp body onto her blood soaked lap, Christine let her tears rain down upon his face, unwilling to cast her eyes away.  
  
For a long time Catherine allowed the girl's impassioned and increasingly desperate cries fill the room, looking on with stoic apathy before speaking. "I have an obligation to protect my people, Christine. You compromised that by coming here."  
  
There was a moment of silence before Christine whispered her reply, still not looking up from her cradled husband's broken body. "I hate you."  
  
Catherine smiled. "I don't doubt it, but you see necessity binds you to me. In time you'll understand my point of view. I was once like you Christine; we all were, innocent and pure. We are not bad people, you will learn and come to understand, and you will love. The truth is this was not unexpected of you. We all pretty much went thought it, running away that is. But rouge vampires learn quickly that they cannot survive for long on their own, but none of them want to listen to us when we say this of course. So we let them learn for themselves.  
  
"You will be given your freedom, an undetermined period of time in which you can roam the city but we will be keeping an eye on you. We keep track of all the deaths due to blood loss, we'll know where you've been hunting, we also know that the catacombs are the first place a wayward fledgling hides if they don't want to be found, feeding on the rats. You won't be able to escape our gaze but I warn you, and do take my warnings seriously this time, if you go to a mortal for aid again, they will be killed. Our secrets must remain our secrets Christine and you've got enough blood on your hands as it is. It's your fault he's dead."  
  
Christine still refused to look at the woman as she made her way to the window but nonetheless took in every word spoken with care and bitterness.  
  
"Oh, and Christine," Catherine began once on the balcony. "Do not blame me for the death of your child, it would have killed you."  
  
Christine's eyes flashed with hatred to those doors but Catherine was gone and Christine was truly alone for the first time in over four years. Again she looked pathetically down at Raoul and closed his eyes, smearing blood on his dead face before pulling him up slightly to kiss his dry lips. Her strangled cries of grief were now only sound occupying that beautiful house which contained so many wondrous memories to her.  
  
"Raoul... Oh... No, no, no... Oh god no."

...

R&R Please  
  
A/N: ok so you've got more then one reason to hate me : P first the conveniently place time jumps, second Raoul got off'd – now you know why I was so nice to him earlier, I felt bad – and lastly no Erik. I was only planning to stick him in briefly at the end but it would just flow much better if I just made it all one chapter besides the next group of chapters will be more from his perspective. Think of this sort of as the end to part one. Anyways I hoped you liked this, well Raoul haters probably do. 


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: well after a long, and I do mean Long break, I've decided to finally get my ass in gear and get back to my writing. This is a shorty to lead into a new period within the story. New chapter coming very soon.

With the cool nights embrace still holding fast over the city, the streets remained barren and mournfully quiet as the gentle howling of the wind pushed its way over head. Its ghostly whisper was accompanied only by the rustling of lonely trees and the nearly silent steps of a cloaked figure, slowly descending down the street. The figure paused momentarily to catch its reflection staring back from a glassy puddle interrupting its path.

Christine sighed as she lowered herself next to the reflective surface. Two empty, glazed over blue eyes gazed dully back at her from skin so pale it nearly matched the silver disk shinning brightly behind her. Allowing her hand to obey on its own, Christine's fingers lightly stroked the waters glowing surface. At once the picture was gone and another sigh was heard.

"Who are you?" she asked in a hushed voice before raising herself from the damp street and continuing on her path at a much faster pace. The night would not last much longer.

Elsewhere, many levels below Garniers vast homage to music, another creature remained awake and restless.

Music pored forth from Erik's fingers like great waves of passion crashing against his skull and demanding to be released with blinding force. He didn't think, as concentration would only distract him, instead he closed his eyes and gave his hands over to instinct, allowing his fingers to rapidly strike out and give voice to the silent emotions swelling tightly in his chest. Melodies crescendoed into piercing chords of dissonance only to be followed by the most intense stretches of building lyrical melodies and then rushing forth to a conclusion that never found it's self.

Not once did Erik pause to scribble down his growing art. No, that would only ruin it. This was a moment captured only once, a continuing self portrait passing just as the time passed, never to be repeated and lost completely to the shadows of the room.

The hours quickly passed and morning was well on its way before the music ceased, allowing Erik to regain focus of his surroundings. But the room was not quiet, instead there was a light buzzing noise coming from his alarm system.

With a scowled, Erik stretched himself from the bench, grabbed his mask, hat, and cape, and irritably exited from his home.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Ok, so I'm officially back, **and** I actually have a full new chapter for you. Please, please, please let me know what you think! I know I've been gone quite a while so I'm kinda freaked the no one is interested in this anymore : /

Christine slowly raised her heavy lids, wincing as hunger bit into her very sides, and attempting to focus on the blur of colours now invading her senses. The last thing she remembered was running to the opera house cellars. Erik was long dead and this was a place hidden from man and vampire alike, a place built solely for the purpose of hiding from the world. Out of respect she stayed away from the house on the lake, even in memory that was still _his_ sanctuary. Instead she explored that area which he had never showed her, the deepest and most deserted section of the cellars, where no one dared explore except the rats.

But then why was there light? Why were these colours now swimming before her very eyes as a familiar yet distant scent filled her with an odd familiarity?

Instantly she bolted upright, knowing perfectly well where she was. How many times had she visited this house? How many times had she awoken to this now unbearable assault on her senses? But this time she was not in her room, _how silly it was for her to still think of it as her room_, but instead laying tightly tucked on the divan close to the fire in absolute silence, with the exception of the flames gentle crackling.

Cursing audibly in a way that would make even a sailor blush, the meaning of all this dawned on her. _He_ was still alive. She had trespassed on Erik's domain and Erik had found her.

One thing filled Christine's mind, _leave now, leave and run_. What ever else consequences all this meant, it would be dealt with later, just get the bloody hell out of there before he shows up and let your mind think then.

Quickly she threw the blankets from her, drew up her skirts, and strode determinedly to where she knew the door was hidden. His voice stopped her mid stride.

"Christine."

Never in her life had she thought one word could hold so much emotion. That one word could bring her whole world crashing down around her and make tears spring to her eyes, leaving her wondering where the dream ended and reality set in. Yes he was alive, and he was here. But then, wasn't he always here, always there to watch over her and protect her?

Of course when she looked around, she saw nothing. For a moment she though it was only a trick of the mind, but then: "You're leaving."

It sounded as though it was a question but she knew it wasn't.

"Erik! I thought you were dead... The paper..." Christine called out into the uncompassionate air but not expecting an answer.

Fear, guilt, regret filled her soul as she turned and turned searching for some tangible form to connect the voice with, but only succeeding in making her self dizzy and if possible, even more disoriented as she tried to collect her frenzied thoughts.

"I wouldn't have come had I known..." she added lamely to the echoing silence.

"Why did you come, Christine?" A shadow unfurled itself from the wall, making its presents known to the trembling girl.

Tears were blinked back as Christine gazed rigidly at the towering figure, now only a few feet in front of her. It was as if he materialized out of no where and now he stood there, scrutinizing her with his impenetrable stare, a perfect reflection of everything her mind had clung to these many years.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come, just forget this." Christine rambled, unable to think, unable to look directly into those crystalline eyes. Hesitantly, the girl made a movement toward the door but the shadow only followed her motion flawlessly, successfully blocking her path.

"Erik please, I need to go. You can't keep me here!" Finally Christine raised her eyes to his face and once again took in the expressionless appearance that mask cast over him. He was like a statue, nothing had changed from the last she had seen him but the eyes, the only thing true about him she could see, stared back coldly, calculating, and hard.

"Christine, why did you come here?" again he asked, motionless.

"I didn't come here, you brought me here, and you had promised to let me go, Erik." she spat. It was the first thought that jumped into her mind. She felt as though she were a mouse caught in a cats trap. How could she explain what had happened? How could she even begin to comprehend telling him? No, the only thing to do was to get out as quickly as possible and to think as little about what this all meant.

If it was at all possible, the shadow stiffened. Then ever so slowly, never letting his eyes waver, he took a step forward. It was only a small step, but to Christine it was as though he had just stepped across a vast chasm dividing them.

"I let you go _once_, perhaps I do not intend to do so again. Not when I find you half frozen and unconscious on my cellar floor. Why were you there, Christine?" His voice remained calm, gentle even, yet Christine could tell that his patience was running thin.

She trembled more violently than before, dropping her gaze to the ground. "I wasn't unconscious, I was... just asleep..."

Something sparked within him, changing the entire temperature of the room. "I thought you were _dead_ Christine. People are able to wake up when they're _just asleep_. I think I deserve an explanation if anything."

He paused to force his voice back into a lulling calm and took one more step, barely even a step, towards her. "Just tell me why you were there, and I'll let you go."

Pitifully she raised her eyes back to his, taking no notice of their close proximity. "Erik please, I can't– "

"Can't what?"

"Be found here." Her voice dropped as their eyes locked, searching each other for some form of recognition.

He regarded her for a moment before turning slightly from her. "No, I suppose your little husband wouldn't like that too much, would he?"

Christine flinched, giving Erik the proof needed that he was on the right track.

"He'd prefer you half dead and frozen on the cold ground instead now is it? Don't worry Christine, we're quite safe here, nobody can find us, least of all your precious Vicomte." He bit off the last words with a wry smirk.

Christine started shaking her head involuntarily as Erik rounded on her and took yet another step towards her, making it all too easy for one of them to simply close the gap between them. Clenching and unclenching her fists, Christine's eyes wandered to where she knew the door must be located and a place just beyond that mask so she wouldn't have to meet those painful eyes.

"You're not wearing your wedding band."

The emotionless words fell softly enough from his mouth but cut into her like a dull blade. Unconsciously the girl's right hand grasped the left as though to hide the fact from sight. She forced her eyes to once again meet his own, but this time with frantic fear clearly showing through her ridged expression, as she took a small trembling step away.

"What has happened? You were hiding. That's why you where here." How Christine could have thought his voice was expressionless seemed incomprehensible now for with every syllable it seemed to strengthen and reverberate ever more clearly around her.

"What did he do to you? What has _that boy _done!"

"I simply did not wish to get it dirty," she replied quickly, twisting her hand within her fingers.

He stared at her, letting the seconds tick by till Christine felt as though the tension in the room would suffocate her. "Then why are you hiding your hand as though you don't want me to know it's missing?" he began very calmly. "You came here to hide."

A cold sweat broke out over her brow as once again her stomach gave an angry lurch. Something must have shown on her face for Erik's forced calm was quickly slipping.

"What has he done to you Christine? Has he hurt you?" he growled with growing strength. "Curse that wretched boy; I should have never let him take you--"

"No," she gasped breathlessly, though more to herself than to the now enraged man before her. Christine's thoughts raced to the night before, the image of Raoul's lifeless eyes staring up at her, empty, dead. Her own eyes became glassy pools, as she couldn't rid the image from her mind.

But Erik continued, taking no notice of any change. "I swear Christine! I swear, if he's so much as touched you, I'll—"

"_Don't say it!_" she screamed once, sufficiently shocking him with her panicked cry. Her entire body was shaking violently and a tear slipped from her eye. "I couldn't bare it. Keep me here if you would, just don't say anymore."

Obviously startled, Erik at once calmed himself. "Christine, please," he said while slowly raising a hand slowly towards her but she quickly flinched away.

"Don't touch me! Just keep away."Defeated, Christine turned from him and sat back on the divan she had awoken on and buried her face in her hands. After about a minute, she heard him approach her side with that cat like grace, which would've gone unnoticed by anyone else.

"Christine..."

"I can't, Erik. I just _can't_!" she breathed frustratingly, concentrating intently on her knees. "I can't tell you why. I can't be found here, not now. And I can't..." Where would she go if she left? Where else could she hide? Her mind raced to think of some option but could think of none. "And I can't go anywhere else, but I can't be found here, I can't..."

"Who would find you? Who _could _find you?" He asked distantly.

Christine's head turned to look at him with a calculating expression etched upon every inch of her face before slowly nodding to some inborn decision.

Please R&R


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Well my dad crashed my computer so I haven't had too much access to a computer lately. I did this chapter on my mom's laptop but it just doesn't feel right when I type. So I apologise for this chapter being short and kinda odd… but I blame the lap top for sucking the inspiration out of my soul and that's the story I'm sticking with.

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_You wont be able to escape our gaze but I warn you, and do take my warnings seriously this time, if you go to a mortal for aid again, they will be killed. Our secrets must remain our secrets Christine and you've got enough blood on your hands as it is. It's your fault he's dead._

No she couldn't do it again. Not bring that _thing_ here, as she surely would, not when she'd already put him through so much suffering.

"I can't stay here, Erik." Christine spoke in a low calm voice, while focusing on a spot of the floor. His own voice drifted back just a resolutely.

"I will not let you leave then. Not unless you explain what has happened."

Christine wanted to cry but it seemed she had no more tears left. The two of them remained motionless and silent, while furious thoughts raced just behind their eyes.

"Very well then. You've made your point clear." Speaking more to herself then the looming figure before her, Christine rose from her seat, careful not to meet his eyes, and walked slowly passed his dark presence.

Erik's eyes never left her form as he watched the girl walk not towards the door, but to where her room had once been and still remained unchanged. He took a step towards her but she raised a hand, still not looking at him.

"You have made me your prisoner, Erik. As long as you keep me here, you have no right to ask anything of me. I will hold you to your word." With this, Christine made a final glance back to him, before entering her former chamber, and it was then that Erik saw it. A look in Christine's eyes, a change in facial expression, the hard line of her mouth; it was Christine but different somehow. She was changed.

With a quick sweep, Christine's eyes took in every detail of the cold, dusty room. Nothing had changed. It felt almost as though she were entering it again for the first time but instinctively knew where everything was kept.

At once she set out for the dresser and pulled from it an old, warm nightgown. She smiled wryly as she ran her hands down the expensive fabric. The smell of it was even inviting. And all the while a light knocking persisted at the door, but Christine paid it no mind as she slipped out of her worn dress.

"Christine?"

The voice drifted through the walls effortlessly, caressing the air around her, tugging her lightly away from reality. She felt like a child again, in this room, in this world, he would protect her. Why couldn't she stay? He said himself; no one could find them there, so why not stay?

The door creaked open only an inch, but then closed just as quickly. Christine shook her head clear of thoughts and continued to dress. It was good to know that of the many things Erik was, a gentleman was still one of them.

For the rest of the evening, Christine remained in her room going over the events of the past week in her head, trying desperately to make sense of it all, how she could have allowed this to happen, and what lay ahead of her. Occasionally, Erik would knock but seemed to have lost his nerve for out right entering the room. She recalled him mentioning something about food but she highly doubted he kept a supply of anything she'd be interesting in consuming. Instead of responding Christine simply remained still on her bed, hugging her small knees to her chest ever lost in the ocean of memories she now seemed to be swimming in.

How many horrors had she witnessed? How much death and bloodshed? Was she even alive anymore, and would it matter if she were? Raoul was dead, and she was to blame. And now she sat there, in this underground world, in Erik's domain, where she never could think straight to begin with, considering raining this whole mess down on him. How could she do it? She must leave or he'll be killed too, but she didn't want to go. Maybe he could protect her? But it was selfish to even consider it, how could even think it? Well look what she did to Raoul, where were her principles then? And now Raoul's dead.

When she did at last move, it was sometime after three in the morning. Slowly her bare feet padded across the floor, careful not to make a sound. Gently she pulled open her door and surveyed the room before her. It was empty and no sound disturbed the air but the light crackling of ambers from the fire. Empty and dead, that's what this room was, that's what she was; empty, dead, and cold.

It was there Erik found her, kneeling before the ambers, staring blindly into their glowing core, and making no response to his unannounced presence.

"Christine, you need your rest. You're not well." He stood beside her, speaking softly, but still she made no response. "Will you not tell me anything?"

A movement out of the corner of his eye made him turn his head, Christine seemed to have noticed too, for though she had not shifted from position, her eyes were undoubtedly focused now on the midsize spider now scuttling a mere foot from her body.

"I'll kill it," she heard Erik say with a sigh and her head shot to his direction, making full eye contact. The movement had startled him and he watched curiously as she lowered her gaze back to the spider. Then with out warning, her hand reached out and snatched the spider from its path.

"It seems silly, doesn't it?" the girl began, watching with a bored expression as the spider crawled hand over hand before her. "To be afraid of something so small, when there are much more dangerous predators to fear."

With the last few words, she turned her gaze blankly up to Erik, while closing her hands tightly.

No one said a word.

At last, Christine let out a loud sigh and rose to her feet, throwing the crushed spider into the ash. Glancing once more towards Erik, as though asking a silent question, she returned to her room.

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Please R&R ; ) 


	11. Chapter 11

Pain, blinding pain shot throughout Christine's body, causing her to writhe violently beneath tangled sheets of satin as she awoke to the dark surroundings. It was all she could do just to keep from crying out while the feeling of hot flames licked the pits of her stomach. Forcing herself to breathe deeply, the world swam before her and she clenched her fists until a small trickle of red escaped her grasp, waiting for the newly placed pain to ground her.

How long had it been since she fed? A day? Two? Well she could not wait another, not with this agony coursing through her. What was it that Catherine had told her? That the body's first instinct is to live and that it will do whatever possible to accomplish this, despite the force of will opposed to it.

Feed she must, meaning she had to get Erik to let her out. Oh she was by no means his prisoner; that she knew though he may be under a different impression. But even knowing this, she could still not bare to truly face him. She knew this the moment she heard that incredible instrument of a voice he possessed again. Such power he could hold over her with only a simple look, the smallest of gestures, or a quiet word… why was it she hadn't left?

Christine bit into her pillow as yet another stab of pain made its way through her trembling body. But the pain was lessening, and her world was coming back into clear view. It was then she noticed the two distinct voices carrying lightly through the walls and into her room.

"You can't keep her here Erik," the first said, sounding oddly familiar. There was a slight pause before the foreign male voice continued. "And the Vicomte? What of him?"

Raoul. O_f all things they could talk about, why this?_ Raoul was dead. She had watched and done nothing, as he was killed mere feet in front of her. She was the last thing he saw before his eye went blank and he had even forgiven her just minutes before. He had done nothing, known nothing but still he remained dead and she alive.

A short, disinterested sound was heard before the Persian spoke again. "How could you, even I would've thought –"

"That's the funny thing about you, isn't it daroga?" interrupted Erik in a caustic tone. "You always say I couldn't and yet I always do…"

Christine moved closer to her door, not wishing to miss any of their conversation yet also dreading what would be said.

"Let her go."

"Do you really expect a spider to release a fly that so willingly comes into its web?" Erik's voice had now turned quiet, and unsettling. "Besides, Christine seems to have lost her aversion to spiders."

Closing her eyes as a sharp wave of shame coursed through her body, Christine released a deep trembling sigh but listened on.

"What are you talking about?" asked the Persian in growing frustration. "The point is you let her go! You promised to leave her alone."

"If you're not going to listen, I really don't see why I should repeat myself. I told you, Christine came to me… in a manner of speaking."

"In a manner of speaking, I know what that means."

"Do you?" There was another pause. "Oh spare me that look, I assure you, I did not kill the Vicomte."

Christine took a staggering step back from the door. Of course the public would have discovered him by now, why should she think she'd be spared such news here? She knew why she was still here, because here she could escape the horror of reality. This world was all one magnificent dream to her once…

"Well then perhaps you would care to explain why he's dead and she's here?"

"Amazing, isn't it?" There was a soft chuckle. "Perhaps fate has finally decided to smile kindly upon my glorious face? But no, Christine seems to be genuinely distressed at the mention of the boy."

"Do you honestly expect me to believe that you had no part in any of this?"

"What I expect is to be left alone." There was definitely a threatening note of finalisation in Erik's now sneering voice. Christine could tell his patience was wearing thin.

"I'm serious Erik. I won't let you get away with this."

_Dear god, why was he provoking him?_

"Are you threatening me, daroga? And in my own house? I dare say you've grown quite foolish in your old age, my friend."

At the sound of muffled movement, Christine thought it best to finally interrupt the conversation while she still had her nerves about her. She opened the door.

"Christine." It was Erik who spoke, in a voice quite different from the threatening one she had just heard. He was looming over the Persian who turned to face her as she stepped away from the opened door.

Nadir could only gape at her, she had forgotten how she must appear to them. Ghostly pale to the near point of transparency and with skin drawn tight against her features, she must have seemed little more than a shade of her former self. Erik, though the masked hid most of his expression, was obviously very agitated by what he saw and made an uncharacteristically clumsy step towards her in concern.

"You are not well Christine, you shouldn't even be standing. Go back to bed at once, I'll be in in a moment." Erik made to usher her back into her room but Christine stealthily manoeuvred away, keeping the Persian between the two of them.

"Madam la Vicomtess, what has happened? What has he done?" Nadir was too shocked to make any real movement but the look he shot at Erik was one of pure condemnation. "You have gone too far this time. Tell me, does she even know what has happened to her husband?"

Completely ignoring him, Erik continued to stare contemplatively at Christine, his eye roving over her form carefully, knowing something was very wrong indeed. She as well seemed unable to speak. The pain in her body continued to pound against her while the image of Raoul's dead eyes seemed to drown all other thoughts.

"You killed him Erik. The least you can do is admit it to her. You see what this news has done to her."

Anger welled up within her as she turned her piercing gaze to the Persian. _How dare he_. How dare he, when it was she who had to see her husband's horror stricken face every time she closed her eyes. It would be so easy to kill him. To simply turn his head and sink her teeth into his neck and she would at last be rid of this burning hunger, at least for a time.

With a violent tremor, Christine forced her eyes closed for a moment before speaking. "Erik had nothing to do with it."

"How can you be s—"

"Because I was there!" she cut in forcefully, her eyes ablaze in anguish. "I watched it happen. I held his lifeless body in my arms. I closed those dead eyes which will forever haunt me!"

Christine then collapsed into the nearby divan, giving over to a few silent sobs and hiding her face in shame for giving into such an outburst. For being so weak, even after everything she had gone through and seen.

"Nadir, I believe it is time for you to leave. Go. Now," came Erik's voice, in a strangely calm and resigned manner.

Christine did not look up until she heard the gentle sound of the door being shut and she knew they were alone.

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Please R&R ; )

A/N: I've finally got an update for ya, though I'm not too impressed by it… I admit that I find long pieces of dialog difficult so I'm not sure how this turned out but let me know what you think! I've also had the oh so fun job of trying to keep Christine in character around Erik when she knows she's more powerful then him… not an easy task when her fear of him is usually a central part of her character. It's been driving me nuts, really, and I don't think I've gotten it right yet : / (gee, can you tell i'm paranoid)


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: well, after being disappointed with the last two chapters I was sure to take my time with this one and I'm actually kinda happy with it. I'd just like to thank all of you who've been reviewing; I strongly appreciate all of you who take the time to do so. As for what vampire lore I'm using, well I can't go into that too much now, see there will be a few chapters in the future dedicated to Christine explaining exactly what happened when Catherine took her and that's when you'll all the info. The one thing I probably should explain though, is Christine's sleeping patterns. For that I'm going by the story "Carmilla" which was written pre-Dracula. Anyways it goes that as the sun is rising, she has to be asleep, but once it's after noon, she can be out in the sun, though preferably not directly. Hope that helps._

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Erik's eyes met Christine with an emotion the girl could not place. His breathing was slow and steady, yet his whole body was infused with a tightly strung tension just threatening to break. Losing her nerve under his harsh stare, Christine timidly lowered her gaze but instead of hearing the reprimand that the girl was sure would soon come, she heard his steps slowly move away.

Looking up, Christine was confused to see that he had retreated into the kitchen, and was now fixing a concoction of sorts. In only a moment, his towering figure was once again looming over her and placed the glass down, startling her with its sharp noise as it hit the table's surface.

"Drink that," he said in an equally sharp tone, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the fire's mantle.

The girl eyed the auburn drink cautiously before looking back at Erik. "What is it?" she asked uncertainly.

"Why Christine, do you not trust me?" There was a subtle smirk on his face as he glared at her with his stony eyes. How was it that this man could go so quickly from what seemed like a genuine state of concern to one of apparent bitterness?

Shooting him a glare of her own, Christine downed the contents of the glass in a single movement. The taste was harsh and warmed her throat on its journey but at least it wasn't completely unpalatable. She then gave him a defiant look, awaiting his next words.

"I think you'll agree that I've been very patient with you, Christine," he began in a slow calculated manner.

"Erik…"

Holding up a hand for silence, Erik peeled himself from the wall and descended closer to the guilt-ridden girl. "You witnessed your husband's murder unharmed and yet it was two weeks prior that you allegedly went missing. If it is not from the attackers you are hiding, then it is the authorities. This does not look well on you, should you decide to return to the surface."

Christine blanched. She had never even thought of how the public would view these strange events. Could she really be considered a suspect?

Erik's silky voice interrupted her troubled thoughts. "What I've been unable to figure out in all this, is why you were given enough time to leave in the first place."

Christine's eyes went wide and Erik's refused to waver as he kept them firmly locked to the girl's, taking in every involuntary reaction his words pulled from her nervous body.

"The only logical answer is that they had no intention of harming you; that they let you go." He paused in order to kneel before her, watching as the girl's eyes slid tightly closed, turning her head from his gaze.

Erik sighed, and with a light touch, allowed his hand to glide her head back to his, while two tears cascaded down her pale cheeks. "Why are you protecting them, Christine?"

Christine's eyes drifted opened to stare directly into his, momentarily stunned by their close proximity. He then moved away from her to give her some space.

"Erik… what you have to understand…" She shook her head, trying desperately to find the words she knew he must hear. But what was it she could tell him? "I was just so incredibly foolish."

She suddenly wished that she hadn't taken his drink all at once, it_ had_ made her feel better and she now wished she could have some more. "I, I met these people, and, well I was lonely… I let them manipulate me so completely, she knew me so well… They managed to convince me that Raoul would eventually leave me, since it seemed I was unable to present him with an heir. I was stupid. They took their time to convince me, but they did it none the less, and I left with them."

Further tears escaped down her face as she made her partial confession, refusing to look in Erik's direction. "I was so horribly confused through it all, but it didn't take me long to realize the terrible mistake I had made. Why they wanted me, I have no idea, but they refused to let me leave, I couldn't leave, not after… I tried to escape, ran straight to Raoul, right to the first place they looked, and despite all my pleading and promises of submission, they killed him anyways and threw his body at my feet."

Christine wasn't sure but it seemed as though Erik's body stiffened as he listened to her trembling words, his subtle hands clenching tightly at his sides and his eyes shining with a fierce intensity. "And then they let me go. After all that, they let me go, promising, _knowing_ that I would have nowhere to turn but back to them. And if I didn't, they'd track me down and kill who ever I had found protection with."

At last she looked up at the man before her, fear etched across every inch of her pleading expression. What could he possibly do to help her? Would he even try to help?

It was a long time before either of them spoke but then Erik finally broke the silence with his emotionless words. "And yet you still protect them."

"You don't und—"

Something in his gaze broke.

"What do you want from me, Christine? Why is it you've made no real effort to leave? I know you didn't come here looking for me, you've made that clear. Why shouldn't I just throw you out now?" Christine gasped audibly as it seemed Erik's volatile temper was about to reveal it's self, but instead he took a step back, glaring horribly at the girl.

In an effort to compose himself, Erik brought his voice down softly, allowing his powerful timbres to caress her pale flesh with his next question. "What will you give me if I allow you to stay?"

Christine's mind whirled. How was it he had so completely managed to turn the tables? Yesterday he had threatened that he wouldn't release her and now, well now he was demanding payment for her stay. He knew she had nowhere else to go, she so much as told him that she was completely at his mercy.

He gave her a confidant smirk, clearly enjoying the new panic racing through the startled girls form. Cursing him in the back of her mind, Christine glared back at his cold, glittering eyes. True, he had every right to be wholly infuriated with her, but she had hoped that after his apparent concern, he would at least be somewhat compassionate to her situation.

The pain in her stomach once again flared, as anger raced to surface it's self within her quaking body. The heat in the room felt as though it would consume her whole, while her ears seemed to even pick up the faint beating of a heart from the man before her.

Rising from her seat, Christine faced the man, biting back a moan as her stomach gave another painful lurch. "Raoul is dead and I'm trapped here, _by choice_ even. It would seem I have inadvertently given you _exactly_ what you've wanted from me. What more do I have?"

She spat the words at him, not caring what their effect would be, hoping even, that they would infuriate him. She stepped towards him, daring him to answer her, daring him to give her the truth. And all the while, she grew increasingly aware of how incredibly human this phantom truly was. She could hear the beating of his heart, feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the blood racing through his veins, and see his pulse thump rhythmically beneath his skin. Christine laughed as the realization dawned on her and the world swam before her eyes.

"Christine? Christine, what's wrong?" came his voice faintly but she paid it no mind. He was only a human, only mortal and she… well what did it matter what she was. What was he to her but food? Again she laughed, fully lost in her revelry.

"Christine, can you hear me?"

She felt his hands tightly grasp her shoulders giving her body a firm shake. Christine's faded eyes began to refocus yet all the while felt the fire ready to consume her. He was much too close. He was much too human and much too close.

Christine watched as her hand rose, as though acting of it own will, and rest carefully on the side of Erik's masked face. She watched in fascination as it made its way down to his neck in a soft caress, and after lingering there a moment, come to settle on a tense shoulder. He was _much_ _too close_.

It wasn't until his own hand came into view and gently pulled the other away, releasing it while taking a step back, that her odd stare was broken. Their eyes met, Erik's in a combination of rage and worry, Christine's consumed with a disturbing feral presence. It was not Christine Erik recognized before him.

Suddenly the world seemed to come back into view and she realized with a staggering understanding, what she had done. _What was she doing?_ Turning her head in shame, Christine moved swiftly away while a sickening rush of self-loathing over took her mind.

"What did they do to you?" he asked uncertainly with the smallest trace of fear breaking through.

Still she ignored him. Christine couldn't bring herself to look back at him, instead she moved steadily towards the hidden door to the house. She needed to feed, _now_.

"I'll, I'll be back soon," she stammered, moving closer to the far wall. "I promise I'll come back. I just need some time… to myself. Don't follow me."

"Christine, you are not leaving. Not –"

"You can't stop me," she cut in.

"You can't leave, not without my help." He was still staring at her but had made no move to approach.

Christine glanced over the wall quickly, instantly spotting the faint markings left by the oils of the hand. She smiled inwardly, wondering if even Erik could see them. "I'll not be gone long."

To his amazement, Christine pushed the exact spot where the spring to open the door was hidden. The door opened briefly and she was gone.

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_Please R&R_

_I just realized how long it's been since I last updated, I hope this was worth the wait._


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: This one's for all my peeps over on PFN, and of course every one who's been so great in reviewing this story.I can't thank you guys enough! I promised you this before the end of the week so here it is, enjoy! Personally I like how it turned out, but as always let me know what you think, I'm always paranoid that my Erik is out of character._

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She felt disgusted making her way back to the house on the lake. Rats! She had had to feed on rats! Filthy, diseased, vermin; _that_ was her reward for denying her hunger for so long, _that_ was what she had to at last, be satisfied with. She was sick from the very thought of it. But what choice did she have if she truly wished to remain anonymous?

Christine made her way back through the dank, sprawling passageways with ease, though the journey out was not pleasant. Being starved had made her clumsy and she had cursed to herself more than once after taking a misplaced step. But the moment that first drop of rich, warm blood touched her lips she was rejuvenated. As she picked off the scurrying rodents one by one, Christine could feel new life return to her face, her cold body warmed, and skin became flushed. She was herself again.

"I thought I asked you not to follow me?" Christine said to the seeming darkness though she had been aware for the past few minutes of an extra shadow, remaining just a few steps back from her own.

The shadow instantly materialise to her side in a single sweeping motion but decided to kept a pace back just behind her. Erik allowed her to lead the way, watching the newfound grace that seemed accentuate her every stride with interest. "It is not safe for you to be down here alone. I have taken certain…_ precautions_, to ensure my privacy is not disturbed."

"Precautions?" Christine stopped dead in her tracks and faced him. She knew precisely what he meant by _precautions_. Raoul had fallen victim to one of his precautions before, as had many others who seemed to come across unfortunate accidents while working in the cellars.

"Well, I suppose I should be grateful then!" the girl began in a fierce sarcastic tone. "My life means more than some poor wretch who loses their way and disturbs your _privacy_. Thank you Erik, for your consideration."

Well some things never change, she thought furiously to herself. Erik was still Erik, without scruples or remorse, and where she was concerned seemed to be the only place he found any sort of decency within himself. Of course the utter hypocrisy of her own chain of thought was not at all lost to Christine. But what other choice did she have? She did not choose to live this way, to be nothing more than a merciless monster. She had to kill to survive; she took no joy in it. It was necessity and nothing more.

Christine didn't know why this reminder of Erik's less than admirable traits disturbed her so, but a sudden wave of loathing for the man before her coursed through her body and Catherine's own words to her young protégé echoed in the back of her mind.

"You know; if you're going to kill, Erik, kill indiscriminately. Anything less is condemnable." The impulsive words had erupted from her mouth before she had the chance to silence their assault. There was nothing she could do now but hold her head high, and stand behind them.

Erik's golden eyes glittered with an emotion Christine could not quite place, but the look he gave her was anything but friendly. His body seemed to stiffen and he held himself very rigidly while his hands involuntarily clenched at his sides. "I'm afraid you're going to have to explain _that one_, my dear," he said in a voice that so cold, she had to shiver as it licked the marrow of her bones.

Perhaps it was the new blood that flowed through her, but Christine felt a strange boldness that was normally lost to her while in Erik's presence. Here Christine was tortured day and night by the guilt of what she was, what she had to do to live, yet Erik, a man whose abilities could make him the most distinguished amongst all other men, stood without shame, and without guilt for the atrocities of his past.

"Simply, that if you can find enough restraint within your self to spare me, then you could certainly find enough when faced with another. If you could kill me, than I would know that that was all you were, a monster without control. But I know you're better than that."

Christine could tell Erik was fighting to restrain the words he fiercely wished to spit back at the girl for her ill-conceived presumption; her arrogant, self-righteous belief that she _knew_ what his life was, what he was and was not capable of controlling. That he _chose_ to live this way. The visible portions of his face contorted into a twisted visage as he took a deliberate step towards the girl.

Christine instantly felt the rush of an all-encompassing foreboding pass over her as he descended closer. Even with her vampire eyes, his dark cloaked figure seemed nothing but a ghostly shade, and just when she felt she was about to lose her nerve; he turned away.

"I'll keep that in mind for next time," were his only words as he started again towards his tomb like home, at a quickened pace.

It wasn't until they were once again bathed in the light of his rooms that Erik broke the silence of their walk. "You look different."

Though his words were calm, Christine could tell the man was still brooding upon her little outburst earlier. Obviously he had noticed the effects the fresh blood brought about in Christine's physical form.

"Do I?" she replied dismissively while walking past him, towards her room.

"Yes, you do," he said as he took a quick step, cutting her from her path. He eyed her contemplatively in a manner, which unnerved her completely. "What have you done to your self?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Something sparked in Erik's eyes. "You're a very poor liar, Christine. Now tell me what you have done."

Christine looked at him contemptibly with a fire of her own. She was not about to let him threaten her, even if it was in a non-verbal approach. "I have done nothing," she haughtily replied while pushing past him boldly.

Without warning, Christine felt the pain of his iron grip clamping down harshly on her small forearm. She was then yanked back to him, forcing her to look directly into those fiery eyes.

"Don't you dare touch me!" screamed Christine, ripping her arm away from the man with a force that should not have come from the petite woman standing before him. She glared at the man venomously only to be grabbed once again, more forcefully than before, and shoved roughly against the wall.

Christine cried out, but Erik paid no notice. He pinned her there, his hands caging either side of her delicate form while he held his body merely an inch from hers. Christine had closed her eyes upon impact and could now feel the seething mans hot breath brushing against her flushed skin.

"May I remind you," came his silky voice, twisting its way around her mind. "That you are staying here on my good will alone? I think I have the right to _anything_ I want while you're here."

Christine slowly opened her eyes to find his masked face hovering just above her. How dare he, she thought wildly as he loomed over her. Christine's mouth opened but the words of disgust she so wanted to fling at him, were lost to her. But then something clicked in her mind as she stared up at his wry grin, _a dare_; that was all this was. She had to bite back a smile of her own as she decided not to take his bate.

"In that you do," she began slowly, choosing each word carefully. "I'm completely at your mercy Erik. You know this. Take of me what you want; I will not try to stop you. I have too much to lose."

Erik's eyes flashed as he bore down on the girl. His next words were not at all what she had expected; instead they were cold and malicious. Every syllable seemed to be laced with the most potent loathing as he brought his body so close that she felt that she would melt from its exquisite heat. "And why would I want that, Christine? Why would I still want you?"

Her eyes went wide and her legs weakened as she let the words reverberate through her soul. A million daggers stabbing her limp body at once would be easier for her to endure than to hear those words again. But why did they affect her so? What had she expected him to say? Had she truly thought that after three years he would still want her? Love her? Even after all she had done to him? She was such a fool! But perhaps the most frightening thing about it was that she had wanted him to, even though she had no desire to give in to his wish. The very thought of her and Erik, locked in a lovers embrace, filled her body with the most terrible feelings of guilt. But the thought that he had lost interest in her; that was even more staggering to her selfish mind.

Erik, unable to endure the painfully raw look of disappointment cast over Christine's gentle features, flung himself from the girl and stormed towards his room. He would not give the memory of that expression enough time for him to contemplate its true meaning.

Christine stood dumb struck, watching the door which led to Erik's chamber slam with an ominous echo. Only a moment later, the deathly silence was broken by an eruption of the most unholy of melodies penetrating her acute auditory senses. Music cascaded over her soul, stirring dormant emotions and giving new life to others. She had heard this music once before, one other time when Erik's seeming madness was twisted into a perverse melody that violated every essence of her being.

But strangely as she listened, it did not frighten her as it once did, no, she understood it. Every strand of lyrical notes sung to her of all the pain in the world, of an unbearable self loathing that threatened to tear it's own heart out with it's unending accusations, a hate so powerful it would destroy itself with it's own consuming fires. And yet beneath it all, stirring just below the surface was life, a passion for that which was forever unattainable, redemption, forgiveness, love, _hope_.

Christine knew this song because she had been living it every day since that horrid night when her soul was baptized in blood. She lived it now along with another creature condemned by fate, another tortured being, condemned for the thing he was forced to become, without choice.

When Erik at last turned from the savage outpour his fingers extracted from the keys of his organ, he found he was not alone. Christine was perched in a resigned manner upon the side of his coffin bed with a few crystal tears slowly trailing down her pallid cheeks. The candelabras flames illuminated the coffins lustrous surface, casting a haunted glow upon the forlorn girl as she sat their like a fallen angel, come to torment him with his pitiful fate.

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_Please R&R!!_


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: well I originally intended this chapter to be longer but if I did that you wouldn't be getting it for another week and I've been getting the impression that there are some PFN'ers out there that wouldn't be too happy with me if that were the case. So I'm sorry you had to wait for a not so long chapter but I hope you like it non the less. Thank you so much for all the great reviews! You guys keep me going._

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Christine was visibly startled to see that Erik was not wearing his mask when he turned and allowed a small gasp escaped her lips as that vision of death faced her. It had been so long since she'd actually _seen_ him; it was a wonder how her mind kept so poor memory of such a horrifying appearance.

_He did this on purpose_, her mind screamed instantly. This was to make her feel guilty, to shame her. But then such a thought was ridiculous. This was his house; of course he should take off his mask. Surly he was not used to wearing it all day, and especially while playing his music, it must be awfully uncomfortable to compose with that inhibiting shield in place.

Christine did feel shame when she that there was pain in his face, the smallest hint of betrayal once that torturous breath passed from deep in her throat. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean… I simply—" was all she could only stutter before Erik cut her off.

"You forgot? Such a luxury." He looked at her coldly, his face instantly emotionless, giving no hint of sympathy at the sight of her tears.

"No, Erik. You simply caught me off guard."

"Off guard," his voice whispered softly. At this he rose from the bench and took a step towards her. "Yes one must always be on guard around me, isn't that so? One never knows what could be allowed to slip when emotions are allowed to run unrestrained…"

Closing her eyes involuntarily to that hideous deaths head doing something so incredible as speaking, she did not see him replace the mask in a single graceful motion. "Erik..."

"Please don't cry, child. _This_ song doesn't deserve your tears."

Christine scowled as she slipped off of the coffin to stare up at the brooding man, she was in no mood to play his games. "I am not a child!"

Even to her own ears she knew she sounded exactly like nothing more than a defiant child.

"No," he said, smiling indulgently at her. "I suppose not. But still, I should have not have played that in your presence. I'm sorry you had to hear it… such music burns under heavens sun."

Christine scoffed. "Well I thought it was beautiful."

Erik surveyed her contemplatively, a slight frown showing through his eyes. "Did you? Well then I'm very sorry to hear that."

Rolling her eyes in frustration, Christine stamped furiously away from him, raising her voice as she spoke. "Can you not speak plainly for once? Why must you be so damn cryptic all the time?"

"You don't like it when I speak plainly," he snapped back, though sure to keep his volume in check. "Very well, what is on my mind Christine? Why don't you tell me about your marriage to the Vicomte? Yes, I think I'd like to hear about that. Ah ha! You see! You dislike my words now."

Christine's scowl became ever more prominent as her hands clutch her arms in a ferocious embrace, turning her knuckles white. Anger and guilt raced side by side through her body as she practically growled her next words. "And why would you wish to hear about that?"

Erik approached her in slow graceful steps, moving in behind her with only a predator's skill. It wasn't until his whispered breath caressed her ear that she realized just how close he was. She then felt a thin bonelike hand pull back a few unruly strands of hair behind her ear with the lightest touch, taking it's time as it glided over her skin.

"Because obviously something was lacking in your perfect fairy tale marriage, my dear," came his voice in a low soothing wave, his hand now trailing down her milky white neck, drawing a small gasp from her lips. "You left him, you said so yourself."

A shiver ran through the girl as the hand clasped over her shoulder and the pads of his fingers lightly danced over her bare collarbone. "I made a mistake," she whispered with half closed eyes, only half ignoring the heat which now flushed over her skin.

With sudden force, the grip on her shoulder tightened and she was spun to face him, the mask only inches from her face. "Happy wives don't leave their husbands," he sneered to her shaken face. Erik then flung her back and stalked back towards the organ.

"Why do you wish to know Erik?" she yelled back at him, more fiercely than before. "Why do you care? You claim you no longer want me, so what does it matter? Am I only to assume that you wish to taunt me for my foolishness? That you wish to hurt me? Punish me?"

He looked back at her dully, his eyes making only a quick sweep before turning away. "Dry your eyes child. I have other methods for causing harm, as you well know."

"I am _not_ afraid of you."

His eyes snapped back.

"Pardon me?" he asked as he approached her, looking at her as though she were the most curious creature he'd ever seen.

"I said; I am not afraid of you, Erik. You may have been able to terrify me in the past, but you can't intimidate me now. Not anymore."

Something in his form stiffened. The man looked away before drifting back with an uneasy step. "I never meant for you to be afraid of me, Christine."

Vaguely did Christine's mind register the touch of sadness that came with those words; instead she only continued to glare at her phantom as memories of a distant past played throughout her mind. "I'm sure," was her emotionless reply.

Erik took his time to consider her. At length he tentatively asked, without really expecting an answer, "May I ask why you're no longer afraid?"

Christine's expression softened as she considered this. The scowl that graced her features faded leaving the mirror image of an innocent child in its wake. Christine felt old. So much more seemed to have passed than her three and twenty years could allow and now all she wanted was peace.

The girl looked up at Erik, shaking her head slightly to answer a silent question to her self. He could just see the faintest hint of tears beginning to glisten before she turned her head away, letting go of a long, slow, and shaky breath.

"It could be because I no longer fear for my life, because there is nothing I love which you could take from me, because there is nothing you can use to threaten me with, and there is nothing from me you want…" She turned her head back to him. "Or it could be because I have lost my aversion to spiders and I find your song beautiful, because I too burn under the sun."

There were no tears in her eyes, Erik could only see damning honesty and his faint reflection brought on by their glassy surface.

"I'm tired Erik. If you need me, I'm going to be resting in my room."

Christine could feel his eyes watching her as she made her silent decent from the room and it was only once her door was firmly shut that she heard the sound of a few smashing objects distantly through the walls.

Why had she left Raoul? That was a reasonable question. Before, she had blamed Catherine and her constant manipulation, that she had twisted her views and distorted reality to convince her. But then, as she had stood in Erik's presence, that excuse did not seem acceptable. Now it dawned on her, she knew why; it would have been a lie. In the end it was _she_ that made the choice to leave, Catherine merely provided the open door when she did.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, Christine's fingers absently played with the twisting design on her bracelet. It was the last present Raoul ever gave her, the only thing she had left of him. It seemed a lifetime ago when she received the precious gift. Christine looked down on the expensive piece of jewelry and cried.

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_Please RR!_

_...i've got virtual cookies gives look_


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N: sorry for the delay, but here it is. this was originally planned to be two chapters but since i made you wait so long i figured i might as well make it one. my apologies to the PFN'ers that hoped i would get this posted an hour ago. i'm really sorry, i know not everyones a night owl like myself. thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews, i can believe how many my last chapter got! i love you all and don't mind at all to get critical reviews. now i really like melodrama, i know it's not everybodys thing but i love the stuff so this chapter is by all means a testament to that, just a little warning._

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The next few days passed by in a daze. Christine kept to her room as much as possible and only left to fetch a book or sit by the fire to warm her dead blood. On occasion that other occupant of this stone burrow would cross her path, giving her only so much as a hateful glance to her direction before ignoring her presence all together; Christine was only too happy to return that glare of distain before carrying on with her business.

Yes, she thought to herself with bitter contempt, she hated him.

She sat in front of the hot flames and listened as he slowing passed by behind her. She would not even meet those condemning eyes if she could avoid it.

She hated him for being there, a reminder of her past. She hated him for letting her stay when she had nowhere else to go; she hated him for making her stay. She hated him for his patience while she refused to give him her truth, for his belief that she would eventually confide in him. For his cold indifference that was so obviously a lie that neither was inclined to call on the other. For his song, his self-portrait, which so chillingly called to her, warming her completely.

Christine watched the back of his cloak as he entered the music room.

She hated him for making her feel safe when she knew it was only a matter of time. She hated him for making her forget the world that existed out side these walls and giving her some semblance of peace.

Music began to drift in from the other room, slowly sweeping around her cold flesh, piercing every pore with its rhythmic intoxication.

She hated him for still, and forever being, her Angel of Music. For being the only source of light in her life when it seemed she would only drown in anonymity. She hated him for taking her innocence and manipulating her so completely, for knowing her so well, for knowing exactly what she needed and then becoming that. She hated him for saving her.

Christine slowly stood and trailed vacantly to the door of the music room, watching in silence as the man lost himself to his art.

She hated him for always being there, always lingering in the back of her mind with his promise.

She could not stay here watching him play. Besides, it was time to feed.

* * *

"I have been reported to and there is no news of Christine within the city," said Aiden lazily as he entered Catherine's study.

The woman did not look up from her chair in front of the fire. Instead she continued to gaze intently into the glowing flames. "I am not surprise. It is still early and she is a clever girl, if somewhat misguided."

"Do you really believe that? It has been days and yet nothing; perhaps you went about things the wrong way?"

Catherine raised an eyebrow. "No, I don't think I did. The girl is merely confused and needs time. She will come around. They always do."

Tired of being ignored, Aiden stalked around to stand by the mantel, forcing himself into Catherine's view. "You should not have killed the Vicomte. She will not forgive so easily for that, it was a reckless move."

She merely gave him a bored glance before returning her stare to the flames. "Reckless? Oh no, I don't think so. It was perfectly logical. He was in the way, in the long run, his life will hold no meaning. She is young, that is all."

Aiden chuckled; only Catherine could come up with such logic. One would think she had never lived as a mortal, thought as a mortal. But then that was a long time ago, and this only further affirmed his suspicions that the woman needed Christine more than she was willing to let on. Of course her foolishness had probably seen to the end of that chance.

"Long run? Where is your heart Catherine? Christine will not forget her husband so easily, and will most likely forever hold it against you. How can you possibly believe she will forgive you?"

"Christine is a killer," the woman snapped back, annoyance clearly flowing through her voice. "As am I. As are you. To hold such a thing against me is senseless. The girl kills to survive. Does she believe that those whose life she takes do not also have loved ones? Friends, family, children, those who depend upon them for support? How is her husband's life any different from those whom she hunts? She would be a hypocrite to hold such a thing against me."

"Yes, she hunts to live. But what was your purpose in killing the boy? It was not to survive. You did it out of jealousy, pure and simple." Catherine glared at him. "Why should she forgive that? You gained nothing from it but the satisfaction that the one thing holding her to a mortal life was gone."

"Yes, I suppose I should have fed on him, is that it?" she replied while rising from her seat. "That way I could insure I had every right to take his life? I'm sorry but when he was in my arms, the thoughts that came to me were not, _drink from him for then Christine could forgive you_.

"It is a pointless and redundant argument. She is a killer and so am I. The girl will need to face this fact, else go insane with guilt. She is not that stupid and she'll need us for help when she does realizes she is not so much better than the rest of us. Survival is what we do; it is how we are forced to live. No longer can we compare ourselves to humanity or bend to its laws and hypocritical morals. We are simply no longer _a part of that_."

He caught her eye for a moment but she simply turned back to the fire. "If your faith is so strong then I suppose there is nothing more I can say."

* * *

Laura stumbled once more along the cold stone floor. The darkness was near blinding while the cold caused her to shiver uncontrollably. She could hear no noise as she made her way around another corridor, which was seemingly identical to the one she just passed.

Why did she have to wander down so far, just to prove her bravery to the other girls, she thought irritably. Well she had done her task, but also managed to get completely lost in the process! It seemed her only hope was for one of them to have enough courage to go looking for her when she didn't return, but it would appear that that would be hoping for too much. The other girls were nothing but senseless children, they would never admit that they had managed to get one of there fellow dancers lost in the opera house's cellars and then did nothing. No she would just have to find the way out herself.

She felt as though a draft swept past, causing her hair to stand on end and heightening her senses. Fear was a curious thing, she thought darkly to herself. It could bring your senses to their full potential and in the process, cause your nerves to near a state of collapse as every little change in atmosphere made your heart skip a beat!

"Are you lost, child?"

Laura felt as though she had jumped a foot in the air when she heard that voice, but let out a shuddering breath of relief as she turned to see a petite young woman standing by her. The girl frowned inwardly at the thought of being called a child by a woman only a few years older than herself but she was not about to complain at the sight of another human being.

"Yes. I don't know what happened. I knew where I was but then must have taken a wrong turn, and so many of these stairs look the same… I'm sorry. I'm rambling, but I'm just so relieved to see someone. Please tell me you know how to get out of here." The girl spoke rapidly, barely noticing the thin smile curling on her companion's lips, which was not at all echoed by her cold stony eyes, eyes that never wavered for an instant from the girls clear blue ones.

Christine approached the girl with slow graceful steps.

"Shh," she breathed as she brought a single, slim finger up to rest upon the panicked girl's trembling lips. "It's all right. I can help you. Come with me."

Laura felt another shiver run through her form while Christine lightly took the girl's hand in her own with a firm yet soft grasp.

"It is not safe," Christine began, giving only the smallest of glances back to her. "To be wandering about the basements. Especially alone."

"I know. I'm sorry. I really hadn't intended to go down so far." Laura didn't know what was compelling her to explain herself to this odd stranger, but Christine's very presence made her feel small, young even, like she wanted nothing more than this woman's approval.

She continued to speak in a humble yet hurried manner, explaining about her friends and why they had sent her down there and how they were probably too scared to go looking for her themselves. Vaguely as she spoke, did her mind register that they were going further into the cellars depths, not the other way around. The cold became ever more unbearable while the dark consumed her completely to the point that she was sure this woman could not see her way.

"I… I don't wish to sound rude but… do you know where we are going? I'm not sure this is the right way." Though she could not tell, she felt rather than saw the woman smiling at her.

"Don't worry, we're almost there."

"Almost where, exactly?" Christine's grip tightened ever so slightly, but the girl did not have the intention of pulling back. In fact she welcomed that protective hand, her one source of comfort in this deep labyrinth.

"Trust me," Christine said. And she did.

A few minutes later Laura came stumbling to a halt at Christine's side. Her breathing quickened and sweat began to form on her brow as Christine let her hand slip, leaving the girl alone in the thick blanket of darkness with not even the slightest sound to ground her.

"Hello? Where are you? Are you still there? Hello!" Her voice rose in panic with every second of unanswered silence. Only once she thought she would scream in desperation, she felt the soothing sensation of Christine's hand upon her cheek.

"It's alright child. Everything will be fine."

The woman's hot breath against her ear was the last thing Laura felt before the sharp piercing pain in her neck, followed closely by blinding pleasure and then, darkness.

* * *

Erik felt, rather then heard Christine enter the room and sit down on the couch against the far wall. He ignored her, as he did all the other times when she would hover by the door to listen to him play, not wishing to draw attention to herself.

"Erik. May I ask you something?" came her voice unexpectedly.

"I daresay you can," he replied emotionlessly, his concentration still seemingly solely for his music.

"What is it like to kill somebody?"

There was a break in his piece and the sudden silence they were both plunged into echoed around them. "Why do you ask me such a thing?" he asked roughly without facing her.

"Morbid curiosity?" she replied with an empty voice.

"Some curiosities are best left unsated."

"Perhaps." Christine paused, allowing her self to gather the courage needed to push on. She needed to say this, to know this, it seemed her vary sanity depended upon it. "Do you ever hear them when you think you're alone? See them when you close your eyes?"

"Christine." Usually the sound of her name on his lips could fill her body with euphoria but this time only filled her with guilt. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath she continued.

"Do they ever haunt you with their final cries for mercy? Do you still remember that look in their eyes when they realize their final thread of hope is gone, when you see that dawning moment of fear, when they know that they are about to die and that you are death's messenger?" She breathed out before asking quietly, "Do you enjoy it?"

Erik's hands clenched instinctively, his entire body had gone rigid. "Stop."

But Christine did not waver; instead her voice only grew in strength and volume. "Do you enjoy that feeling of power, knowing that this individual, whose life is meaningless to you, is now at your complete mercy; that you have total control, total power? Does it satisfy you, knowing that you are forever set apart from these other mortals, that you have never been and will never be an equal in their eyes? Do you even remember all the faces, names, locations of these acts? The most important thing to ever occur to these people and you the person to bring it about, does it mean anything to you? Should it?"

"Christine, please stop this." _What was she thinking?_ "Perhaps you need one of your walks?" But he knew that wasn't it. Still he did not face her, could not face her, not with these words of accusation and truth spilling from her beautiful mouth.

"I just had one of my walks," she replied stiffly.

"Well these are not questions I care to answer, nor are they questions that you should be asking."

Christine's eyes narrowed. "Have you ever wanted to kill me?"

Erik swept around on the bench to face her, shock clearly showing through his eyes.

"Has there ever been a moment where your barely controlled passion nearly snapped and the vision of me helpless beneath your powerful grip clouded your eyes? The thought that you could rid yourself of this baneful child, who torments you so thoroughly, could very easily be removed from existence?"

"Stop this madness Christine. Why are you doing this?" He was breathing deeply, eyes ever poised on Christine's, while she stared back, her face a hard mask and expressionless.

"I've wanted to kill you, you know. If I could, I'm not sure I wouldn't have done it. You had Raoul's life in the palm of your hand, how can I forgive you for that?" Christine took a deep breath and looked away. "But I have… If I couldn't, then how could I forgive myself?"

"What are you saying?" Erik stood from the bench and came around to the girl's side, hovering just above her. "Christine, leave these thoughts. Angels shouldn't think such things."

"Not all Angels reside in heaven and I am forever damned. There is nothing but fire in my future Erik, I daresay that that is a truth for the both of us." Her voice came as a soft whisper as she sat with her head stooped. Erik could just see the stream of tears slowly tracing down the girls face when he understood.

"No," he whispered in disbelief, an idea slowly forming in the back of his mind.

Christine dared a glance in his direction before returning her focus to her hands.

"No, Christine. Tell me no. They did not, could not make you." But Christine remained silent. She could not bear to look at him, wouldn't meet those condemning eyes that always saw her as the one white light in his world of darkness.

It was only when she felt the movement of the cushion beside her that she let her tears fall freely. She then her him take a deep breath, as though struggling to find his words.

He knew what he had to say, if his suspicions were correct. What it was she needed to hear, that she could only hear from him. "It does get better, with time. They never do leave you, not really, but they do fade, in a way."

Christine looked up at him, barely comprehending what it was she was hearing.

"The first time you never forget and there are some, here and there, that will never leave you, never let you leave them... In time they fade but never leave, and you don't want them to leave. It would be far too easy if they did.

"And yes, I do enjoy it. Not always, but there are times when I do, and I do not regret it either. And yes, I have thought about killing you. Only small moments, flashes of insanity where it just made perfect sense, but nothing more than a thought, a mild consideration, you have no idea what you do to me Christine… Oh _Christine_." His voice died on his lips.

Erik closed his eyes, waiting for the words of condemnation to fall, waiting for her to tell him that he assumed wrong and that he was truly the monster she always saw him as. But instead he felt hands slowly slink over his neck and her face bury tightly to his shoulder while violent sobs raked through the girl's entire body.

"Oh Christine," he again echoed, tentatively bringing his arms up to protectively encircle her trembling body and savor its warmth. Lightly his hand made its way through her hair, running its long, skeletal fingers through her strands as he held her there, utterly lost. So he just held her.

It seemed like hours had passed when only about a minute slipped away with the two in this state, but finally Christine's rough sobs began to slow, and her shaking subsided. Erik's grip instinctively loosened, thinking once she returned to her senses she would no longer wish to be in such close proximity to such a creature. But as his arms loosened she only ever more tightly held on.

"Don't leave me," came her muffled voice. Her body shifted slightly, only to become closer.

Christine's mind raced. There was so much more she needed to say, so much still that he didn't know or understand and could never know; not and still care for her. No, he doesn't understand and this outburst of emotion on her part will soon be dearly regretted. _What was she thinking?_ Essentially telling him that yes, she too was a killer. What was the point? Was she looking for compassion or just needed someone that understoodto tell her it would be all right?

He must hate her, she thought ruefully. How could he not? She was nothing of the girl he once knew. She had the blood on her hand from her own murder. A suicide would have been better! She had killed his Christine and now he was holding a ghost.

Christine's thoughts were interrupted by the light sensation of Erik's lips brushing carefully against her forehead and then hearing a loud sigh as his arms pulled away. Christine looked up at him curiously, almost disbelieving what she had just felt.

"I'm sorry Christine. I shouldn't have. I didn't mean…"

Never before had she seen such a pair of sad, adoring eyes, looking anywhere but into her own. Without a thought as to why, Christine raised her head and brought her lips to his, kissing him slowly while her body shook in trepidation.

Unable to think, unable to breathe, Erik sat motionless as those soft, beautiful, crimson lips dared to touch his own twisted ones. What god in heaven would allow such a thing to occur? How is such a thing even possible? Then something in his mind snapped, Christine was kissing him!

With that moment of realization, Erik brought his arms back around her, only lightly touching her skin, and kissed her back, obviously unsure of himself. Did God really allow you to kiss an angel twice in one lifetime?

But then reality came crashing back into Christine's focus and memory wrought its own vengeance. With a cry, the girl pulled away and flung herself from the couch. "Oh God, Erik I'm sorry."

Tears again traced her cheeks while her body went numb with fear and confusion. "I didn't mean… I shouldn't have… Oh God, Raoul. I can't do this. I'm sorry."

Unable to bare his sight any longer, watching as every ill chosen word struck him like a dagger, Christine ran from the room and didn't stop till she was curling against the far wall of her bed.

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_Please R&R!_

_10000 vampire points to anyone who can guess where i got Laura's name._

_spoiler: Erik finds out, next chapter_


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: well less of a wait for you this time and i'm quite excited to bring this chapter to you so please let me know what you think! this is pretty much the end of part 2 of the story, i'm so happy with the response it has been getting considering it's not exactly what people go looking for when the think phantom and fanfiction. anyways thank you, thank you, thank you! you guys mean so much to me!

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She remembered seeing the girl, so helpless, lost within the black labyrinth. How could she resist? She had watched as the girl trailed ever farther into that damned blanket of sunless night, her fear growing with every step, her trembling increasing with each passing moment; Christine found it hopelessly intoxicating.

Such a pure creature, the girl, so innocent in her simple dress, and youthful grace; it was so easy to follow her, watching her every movement as she took one wrong turn after another. More than once Christine had wished the girl would go the other way, the way that would lead to her freedom instead of continually tempting her, unknowingly provoking Christine with her childish mannerisms.

It was just so easy to step forward and call to her, to smile in the back of her mind as that glimmer of hope glinted in the girl's eyes. She was the perfect victim, and it had been so long since Christine had tasted human blood; how could she possibly be blamed for taking such an indulgence when it offered itself so exquisitely before her?

She had dumped the body in the lake, weighting it down with lose stones and bricks. It was so simple and no one would ever find her. Christine couldn't help but wonder how many other bodies occupied the lakes depths, how many victims Erik's sanctuary had claimed.

But the guilt! It was unbearable as always. How could one live with such acts so heavily staining their hands? When the voices from beyond constantly echoed into her thoughts, how was it possible to even so much as live? Yet there was Erik, the living embalmment of everything she told herself she condemned during life, still alive, still with hope. He had survived.

One question after another pored unbidden from her mouth, daring him with every passing breath to answer those wretched questions that could only lead to condemnation. What had possessed her, she couldn't say, but if she wished to live with herself another day and not be continually tempted to bind herself under the suns purging rays, she needed to know and so she asked.

And he answered.

And he knew.

What agony it was to admit her failure to him, she who had always been his one source of purity, his one salvation. To have fallen so far, what did that mean for him? What new level of hell did she sentence him to? Was he to believe that everything he touched became eternally damned? Was his touch so displeasing? What hell had she condemned them both to now with her stupidity in coming here and burdening her fall from grace upon his worn shoulders?

But he had accepted her.

He had kissed her damned flesh with reverence. He had asked her forgiveness for staining his lips with her pain. God, if one could describe the emotions that wrought through her body in that instance! In that moment alone did angels truly exist.

But everything had been a daze. Every thought, nothing but a moment of insanity, every feeling only a blind grasp for sympathy and understanding. In the end what meaning did it hold? Raoul was dead and she in the seventh level of hell, only too happy to be sharing it with another. Selfish, as always, but at least not alone.

Christine wasn't sure how long she lay there but she was positive there had been no noise from the other room in quite some time. She could not stay here like this, mourning her own life; she would not wallow in pity for her choice.

With a stretch, the girl rose from the bed and made her way towards the door. She would grab a book; that was all. She would prove she was not afraid and simply grab a book. Innocent, non provoking, and meaningless; if he were to see her, nothing could be made of her actions.

The door pushed open with the simplest touch and Christine was once again free of her chamber. Beyond, the bookshelf. As soon as she took the first step from her retreat, the girl became all too aware of Erik's presence just a little outside her door.

Christine walked purposely towards the collection, doing her best to ignore the man standing just a few paces away from her, standing frighteningly still, and watching her with an intensity which made her feel disturbingly exposed and vulnerable.

She did not look but knew his eyes followed without the slightest waver as she made her selection and began to walk back to her room. Such a presence could never be truly ignored but she did her best and closed the door quickly behind her, letting out a long held breath.

She had only just sat upon the bed when her door opened. Erik never entered her room. This was her one sanctuary from him, yet there he was standing coldly in the entrance, his eyes burning with a fire which could easily be either passion or hatred, the two were so intimately intertwined between them, it was impossible to tell.

Their eyes met, Erik's cold but on fire, Christine's looked away.

"Christine, come here." His voice sliced through the silence at once, sending a tremor to her bones.

She obeyed without question. A voice in the back of her mind screamed that he had no right ordering her to do anything, that she was ten times as strong as he, but it was so easy to just let him take control, reality was much too exhausting for conscious thought.

Christine approached him with tentative steps, keeping her eyes carefully averted to anything but his strong, forceful form, hovering just before her.

"Look at me, Christine."

She did, though reluctantly and his eyes bore into her with so many unspoken words. How could she ever think she was in control here? _Because she was_, even if it were for only a short time. She had completely unnerved him with her odd behavior and that had given her power. But now…

Erik grasped her wrist in a firm hold and began to pull her slowly from the room.

She had kissed him. It was that act alone which had undone any strength she had against him and he knew it. She had kissed him and it wasn't to save anyone or herself. With that kiss, she admitted she needed him.

She followed silently as he pulled her towards his room; making no acknowledgment of her presence till they had entered and he had firmly closed the door behind them. With smooth, graceful steps he moved beside his coffin bed and made a slight yet unquestionable gesture towards it.

"Sit," he ordered shortly.

Again a voice inside her screamed at his arrogance to command her, but her body couldn't refuse and she perched herself upon the edge of the lustrous black surface where she had seated herself days earlier.

"Since you so wisely chose not answer me last time, I will reiterate my original question. Undoubtedly you are here due to necessity, therefore it is reasonable for me to ask what it is you are willing to offer for your stay in my home."

Christine glared at him as he spoke every word with that steady, indifferent, calm he could infuse in his voice when he was planning something. Obviously he didn't expect her to answer with anything he found acceptable and Christine resented him all the more for it. He was going to use that kiss against her to its full potential.

After some thought, she decided to use his own tactics against him and answered as monotonously as possible. "If there is anything you wish of me, take it, as I have already said. But since you've said you don't want me, I really don't see what I have that would be, ah, _appeasing_ to you."

She finished her sentence with a sneer, wondering how he would twist that against her as she was sure he would.

Erik smirked at her, pacing shortly in front of her. "I wouldn't say that," he began carefully, betraying the first subtle hint of emotion. "That bracelet for instance. I think I would like that."

Christine gasped, tucking her arm close to her body. _How could he know about that? _But it was obvious he did. How could he possible ask her to give that up? Her last link to Raoul, it was all she had left!

"You, you can't. I can't give this to you." she mumbled, cradling her arm tightly. Erik gave her a questioning look. "I, I can't."

"But it's only a piece of jewelry. Simply a strand of metal, hammered out by some unknown peon, with a few rocks pressed in. surely such a thing could not be so invaluable as to risk your life for?"

The bastard was gloating, and she knew it. "I can't, Erik, and obviously you know why."

Erik shrugged before walking steadily towards her. "Everything up there was once yours, Christine, but down here… well, everything down here belongs to me."

After staring at the platinum band, Christine looked up at the man in front of her, meeting his eyes bitterly as her hand unclasped the chain. And just like that, the bracelet fell into his out stretched hand while Christine looked away, a few unbidden tears creeping from the corners of her eyes.

His hand brushed them away as he became ever closer, too close.

"You've made your choice, Christine."

She nodded, hating him.

He turned her head to face him and descended closer. "I want to hear your answer, Christine."

"I…" What was it he wanted her to say? She looked into those golden eyes, merely a few inches in front of hers, waiting for her. The coffin's surface became ever the more present beneath her as the funeral drapes and macabre candelabras sat provocatively in her peripheral vision. _Death._ Was he asking her to accept his death with her?

No, that didn't make any sense at all. But what was he asking her? What was the reason for all this? This was simply his world, the way in which he lived, the way in which she would live.

"I'm waiting, Christine."

Christine swallowed hard, pushing all thoughts of her former life away. They no longer mattered. "I belong to you," she breathed at last, no longer able to meet his eyes.

"I don't believe you."

Gasping audibly Christine looked back at him, hurt fully imprinted upon her form as she began to tremble. What more could he want? Didn't he have enough? Tears again pricked her eyes and her breathing became uneven with frustration. She wanted to yell at him, scream that he had won, but she doubted that that would give him the answer he was looking for. God, she hated him. Couldn't he tell she loved him?

Christine scowled and with that thought firmly imprinted in her mind, she flung her arms around his neck and pulled him to meet her lips in a tight embrace. To hell with what once was, she more than loved him; she needed him. Christine kissed him long and hard, swallowing her sobs and pushing all bothersome voices from the back of her head away.

Nothing mattered. She was in his kingdom; she belonged to him, what ever else happened _up there,_ was no longer a concern.

Erik, with growing confidence, moved his arms around her, carefully holding her to him as she sat there, lost. Gently his lips moved over hers, conditioning her to his touch and coaxing her to deepen their embrace.

With her vision swimming before her eyes, Christine leaned back against the coffin, pulling Erik with her, the awkwardness of their position not at all hindering him as his hand began to explore her sides and hips while their bodies drew ever closer. His lips trailed slowly from her lips to her jawbone and to her earlobe, while his hands trailed ever upwards, causing Christine to gasp and sigh as her eyes were drawn to the chambers ceiling. She had never truly noticed the pointed arcs he'd used in construction of this room. How very gothic she thought as she threaded her fingers through his hair, moaning slightly as his mouth made its way down her throat and pressed against her heavy pulse.

Oh how she wanted him to bite her. To feel his fangs tear that delicate piece of flesh and plunge deep within her, filling her with that exquisite feeling of pleasure and pain, which only accompanied a vampires kiss. To feel her body's heat flow into him as he joined them together as one being, their hearts beating as one in complete rhythmic unison while life washed from her to his cold flesh and he buried his head against her neck.

At last, when she felt she could take no more, his mouth once again found hers and she relished in his release. But it was still not enough. She wanted to have him, all of him. He had taken her to far to deny her this, and she could only give him the same in return.

Erik gasped the as pain shot into his neck and Christine firmly clasped herself against his warm flesh, moaning while hot thick liquid flowed between her awaiting lips, losing all conscious thought and falling hopelessly into a state of indescribable bliss.

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_Please R&R_

_you all hate me now don't you?_

_well i didn't lie, i did say he would find out..._


	17. Chapter 17

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A ribbon of red silk, the rhythmic swing of a metronome, a gasping of breath. Erik's eyes slid shut as all possible thought drifted from grasp and a most exquisite pain flowed over. He could feel his pulse throb with each pull from the woman in his arms, a pulse that danced in delight from his impaled neck and shuddering abdomen.

A slight shift from his side alerted him she was pulling away. Swiftly he raised his hand to her head, holding her close, pushing her on. She could not stop, not now, not with this awesome pleasure taking hold of him. He could feel himself dying, he wanted to _die_, if only to let this continue a moment longer.

In a sudden burst of self-control, Christine wretched herself from the deadly embrace. It could not end like this. She would not let it. Taking one look at his sprawled form, eyes drawn forcefully to those two small specs of red, slowly growing in size, the trembling girl flung herself from his side, a loud shriek emanating from her coated throat.

Eyes of fire snapped open, taking in the huddled girl against the wall, as a hand gently prodded his wounded neck. He did not move, did not seem to breathe, only sat there motionless, staring while Christine's hands clawed in against her hair.

She could not bear to look up into those eyes which surely now saw what a monster she was, knew what demon had taken over his angel, his one touch of purity. She sobbed, she shrieked at her own horror, she tore at her scalp and pushed ever farther against the wall and floor as though her flames lay just beyond it.

Christine didn't hear him approach but felt a single finger tremble as it lifted her chin. Her eyes refused to look up.

The finger then pushed lightly against the top of her lip only to retreat as though it had been burned. The sound of a door slamming was the only thing that brought her tear stained eyes from the floor. He was gone.

She sat there silently, her body continuing to tremble as the tears made silent streaks across her face. Somehow she expected music but there was none. It was just empty.

When she opened his door, Christine found his body rigidly seated before the organ, remaining fearfully still though a deep breath could be vaguely heard.

"Erik…" Her voice was hollow, empty, but so painfully Christine's, the voice he remembered from long ago and hadn't realize it had been missed. "I'm sorry."

He looked at her, but Christine could tell it wasn't her he was seeing. There was no recognition in that face, no trace of compassion, no anything. It was just empty.

But then he spoke though his lips made barely a movement. "_Tell me everything_."

And she could tell it wasn't a request. If ever he made a command of her, it was paled by those three words, yet his voice was barely above a whisper.

Christine opened her mouth, knowing there was no turning back. _Everything_, he would have to know everything and then she would leave. Slip back into the night, back into Catherine's embrace, back where she was no longer a demon, and Erik would forget her.

"Her name is Catherine, and she asked me to die for her."

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_And thus begins Christine's narrative_

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If you're squeamish, this may be the point to stop reading as this story may tread into an R rating.

As always, please R&R even if you want to stab me in the heart with a spoon for my 6months hiatus.


	18. Chapter 18

_A/N: I guess I should apologize for keeping you waiting so long after that little teaser I posted. The truth is I meant this to be up two weeks ago but a bunch of crazy stuff happened at work and I was quite distracted for a while… damn real life getting in the way of things… anyways this chapter is quite different from the others, mainly do to it being from Christine's perception. I should also note that she will probably seem out of character here, this is vampire Christine speaking without Erik grounding her as I'm sure you'll notice._

_This is also the chapter that I was worried about turning the story into an R rating but everything seemed to flow, telling what I wanted it too, without even coming close to that line… I'm not sure if this is a good thing as it means I'm growing soft, shall have to remedy that in the future._

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Christine sat nervously before Erik, vainly attempting to calm her thoughts. When she looked up, she saw the man leaning against the adjacent wall, his arms stiffly crossed over his chest.

"Catherine… she…" The girl paused, unsure of how to continue. "The woman was just so," she made an odd gesture with her hand and then slumped in defeat, taking a deep breath.

After a few minutes of sitting in silence, the words began to flow from her mouth, words of truth, uncensored, and un-weighed.

"What you have to understand Erik, is that above all else, I was lonely. Yes I had Raoul but it just wasn't the same with him, despite all he had done for me I knew I was not an equal and therefore I was alone. And then she came from nowhere at all, I knew nothing of her but she came to me, knowing me, as if she knew me my whole life.

"She took me under her wing, protected me, became my constant companion, became everything I needed to survive and because of this, she gave me strength. I was no longer timid and could stand on my own in a room full of enemies, those ladies of society who would never dream of welcoming a penniless opera whore into their graces.

"But all things come with a price you see. She knew I was beginning to doubt my place with Raoul, not that I didn't love him. Oh no, I loved him _too much_ you see. I saw the sacrifice he was making to allow me to become his wife. I saw him turn his back on family, friends, and what even seemed a continued legacy just to allow me to stand at his side.

"Catherine saw this right away and told me so, made it perfectly clear that such behavior was rare and she began advising me. It's not that she told me Raoul would leave me, oh no, she praised the dear boy for his chivalry and continued to set him on an ever higher pedestal, a pedestal I knew to be false. I knew he was not such a perfect savior for me. So as she praised, I saw the flaws and they became ever the more apparent.

"This continued for some time and I soon found my life revolving around hers. She had such an incredible personality; such freedom and passion flowed through her veins. She could do anything, anything at all, and we could do them together. Never had I felt such freedom, such life! It was beyond words. Her very presence intoxicated me.

"And then the evening came when she introduced me to her kin, others like her, who accepted me at first welcome, who had been told of and expected me. It was a party of sorts and later I learned it was when she first gave me a taste of her world. I don't really know what happened to me, the entire night was like a dream.

"It was strange, after that. I felt connected to her somehow, it wasn't the same as before, but I couldn't leave her. I grew ever more distant to those around me, breaking what small ties I had to those in my acquaintance and bushing Raoul ever the farther away, though in my mind it seemed as though it were everyone breaking with me.

"She introduced me more properly to her friends who were always about in her home. They seemed to share Catherine's odd, spirited lust for life and all the worldly pleasure they could consume. I admit I was intimidated by their vivacity but Catherine shielded me from much of their eccentricities. Her friend Aiden had also taken to conversing with me when Catherine was unavailable.

"He was… well I suppose I should tell you of our first real meeting for you to understand his presence."

Christine paused to search the mans eyes, looking for a reaction for she had divulged but none came. Breathing deeply, she continued.

"I had arrived just after noon to meet with Catherine. He opened the door and announced that Catherine was seeing to an urgent matter at present and that I should wait for her in the east parlor. He left me then to tend to myself as I made my way there. By that time I should say, I was accustomed to going about the house and knew my way.

"After sitting for a few minutes, Aiden appeared carrying a tray of refreshments with tea and sat them down before me. I thanked him, to which he merely nodded with the slightest smile before sitting himself down in the chair opposite me. His eyes locked with mine as he fixed me with the most… encompassing stare—as though his eyes were alight with fire yet they were, as always, stone cold and unresponsive. It made me shiver and I looked away.

"'I've been meaning to speak to you for some time now, Christine." His voice was soft yet hollow. I'm not sure if he meant to be gentle or unnerving but the latter was the result. I turned my eyes back to his and gestured for him to continue, though I'm sure he could see I was unsettled. My exposure to him up to that point had been quite limited; I should mention too that he and Catherine seemed to be the ones holding court over the others in the house. An odd term, I know, but you will understand as I continue.

"'Catherine has become quite attached to you, as I'm sure you are aware.' He seemed to weigh each word carefully on his tongue before proceeding. 'Though I know it will not always appear so, there is quite a bit of history between us, Catherine is my friend, as statement I do not make lightly. It is because of this I feel it necessary to advice you to precede with caution, for your sake as much as hers. She is not a woman of halves, Christine, she will not settle for anything less. So take this as a clear warning, you will soon be given a choice of which there is no turning back, be sure to think _carefully_ before making that choice and do not think only of yourself.'

"And he left me with that. When Catherine did arrive, I told her of his odd behavior though she brushed it off as Aiden being _overly sentimental._ I wanted to push to find out what she meant by that but I thought it best not too."

Here Christine took a pause, obviously shivering from the memory yet Erik remained still, waiting for the girl to find voice to continue. She seemed to be struggling to find her next words.

"The choice was given to me later that week… it's hard to describe what it was I was thinking, or rather the was I _was_ at that time. I suppose I should just state facts rather than try to justify myself. Looking back there truly isn't anyway I could justify myself that would make sense to any sane being. But as it was, I didn't trust Raoul to stay by my side as a loving husband, I didn't believe my marriage to Raoul would remain so once he grew older and out of his youthful ideals of love and marriage."

Christine shook he head with closed eyes. "I thought I was being noble, that I was making a sacrifice for his happiness. Pathetic really. Little, selfish, Christine, who'd done nothing but take and take from the men in her life… Little Lotte who wanted to be good and hear the angel of music in her head… what did I do in return but take? Well here I though, here was the opportunity to prove just how much I loved him, that I would put his happiness, his future above mine!"

The girl made a snorting sort of noise as Erik saw her eye take on a glossy appearance.

"I knew he would suffer when I first left, but I told myself it was for the best… but then, once I had left that… _place_… I ran straight to him, as though he could protect me. My selfish need for another to take care of me, to tell me in which direction I should run, placed him directly in Catherine's path of me. She disposed of him as though he were nothing, less than human, a tool to prove a point. And it was I that made him so!"

Tears streamed down her pallid cheeks. Erik noticed that she made no effort to brush them away or hide them. She didn't want to hide them; to hide them would be to deny their reason. The man shifted, making her aware of his presence so that she wasn't lost in her own guilt.

She smiled wryly up at him. "I suppose what you're interested in is what happened then, why I would accept this-- _half life_," she practically spat the words. "Well it's very simple see. I believed Raoul would leave me and that he would be better off with out me. Catherine introduced me to a life free of constraints where passion ran wild."

She paused and leaned back slightly, taking on a sardonic aurora mixed with bitter contempt. "You know me, Erik. Perhaps better than Raoul ever could. You know what raptures can over take me when my passions are released. Most would think of passion and raptures as expressions of physical love, but neither of us has ever been so, _base,_ in our expressions to one another… Catherine and her world were the same. It was beyond the physical, beyond even music; the sound it spoke of was untouched by human fallibilities. It was pure. It was natural beyond animalistic. It was base in its primal need yet spiritually enlightened in its quest. It was freedom untouched by societies ethics and it spoke to me in a language of music that only the wolves howl."

If Erik was at all concerned by this declaration, he made no show of it yet the tears, which were formally in his loves eyes seemed to have vanished completely. Instead that wry smile was back in place yet her eyes were distant and her breathing excited.

"So when she told me her nature, what she was, what her people were, _I said yes_! At first, of course I didn't believe, but she made me believe. She made me see what _exactly_ she was and I wanted it! And there I confess my sin. _I knew! _I watched her take life without remorse and even seeing such horrors I still wanted it! I believed it to be me! How could I not? Her world spoke to me so-- it's passion! It's instinct! It encompassed what I was at heart, freedom and passion uncensored, life unknown to those too blind, those too weak and frightened to seize it! How could I be true to myself and not take it? I was a fool so blinded by the devil's temptations to see the damned before my eyes.

"The night she took me, I dressed in a white shift. The others in the house watched as I climbed the stairs to her rooms, Catherine trailing mournfully behind me. I sat on her white linen bed, listening ominously as the door closed behind me. 'I give you one last chance Christine, to turn back, to leave what through me you have come to know. Think carefully because _there is no_ turning back.' As though at that point I could think of such a thing. Her manipulation had been so complete, so precise; I was nothing but a puppet to her. I shook my head at her and look up into her impassive face as she stood before me. Her emotions almost seemed sad if I did not know any better while she looked into my wide eyes. She was dressed in white as well though it was hardly a shift. She wore a gown of white silk, well not really a gown; it had no petty coat or under garments but its intricacies was nonetheless apparent. I suppose for her it was a sort of wedding gown in a way… as she took her virgin to the marriage bed." Christine bit off the words with a sneer but made no pause in her story.

"'Please' was all I could managed to choke out as she looked at me with such haunting green eyes. And with that, she bent down with those succulent crimson stained lips and took mine in hers. She pressed on until I found myself lying back against the bed and her face above my own. 'I don't mean to hurt you,' she said before letting her hand trail from my cheek to caressing my neck. Her other had lightly turned my head away before hers lowered and I felt the to slightest pinpricks trail from an open mouth from my jaw bone down my throat."

Christine smiled slightly. "She pushed with the lightest touch, only barely breaking the skin. I remember gasping as her tongue touched my throat, tasting my bloodied skin. Her lips trailed lower and brushed against my collarbone before pressing down against my chest. Again my skin broke and she lapped from my wound. This strange homage of blood continued over my flesh, she would move her mouth to a yet untainted portion of my body and press her demon fangs into me, letting me bleed, and tasting me, until that white shift and those delicate sheets were spotted, stained, and clogged with my life's red essence.

"At some point I remember tasting her own blood, from her arm, chest, mouth and other places I'm sure. It was all a haze you see… I can't help but smile at the memory though. It was so…_ fantastic, _for lack of a better word, dreams, prayer, love, could not touch what I touched that night even if it was called forth from the devils bosom."

The girl sighed though whether it was in remorse or revel Erik could not tell. "At some point I passed out. When I awoke, I was alone on sheets coated in stale blood, my shift ripped and barely covering my stained body. In a wave, just as the putrid stench of my own essence assaulted my nose, I realized the gravity of what I had done, of what madness had taken over me the night before. Too week to scream, instead I cried, trying to clean my body with my hands. I scratched at the flaking blood that still clung to me. Desperately I ran my nails down my arms, scoring harsh lines, that it's a wonder I didn't break my skin once more in my futile effort to cleanse soul.

"It was in this state that Catherine found me. No longer was she dressed in that mockery of a wedding gown but a simple dress. I stopped moving as soon as she entered and eyed her with suspicion but she only sighed and looked to the curtained window. She spoke no word as she approached and I could do nothing but whimper. I made a slight effort to stand but my strength was all but gone.

"'Rest child,' was all she whispered as she laid a cold hand against my forehead. A wave of dizziness over took me then and I fell back into my pillows. She came and stood looking down to me with that damned smile. A pitiful excuse for a smile, only a half smile with no triumph or accomplishment. I tell you Erik; she looked afraid, as though she had any right to appear so! I wanted to slap her, if my arm had the strength but instead I just lay there trying to keep focused.

"And then with no effort at all, she lifted me in her arms and carried me into a lavish bathroom where a marble bath, filled scented water awaited. Carefully she lowered me into its depths before pealing away that tattered rag I had been wearing. I could do nothing but sit there, the heat taking away the remainder of my strength while she left with the bloodied mess of fabric.

"She returned shortly to my side and began to wash me in a manner which reminded me of my own mother when I was still a child. Never speaking a word, she scrubbed at my tangled locks and pale skin, washing away all traces of the night before. And as I sat there in that strange remembrance, a mocking imitation of family lost, I cried."

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_Please R&R_

_I'm curious as to how the view change comes out_.


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